


The Good, The Bad, and The Dirty

by country13



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Ass Play, Ass to Mouth, Blindfolds, Canon Gay Character, Canon Gay Relationship, Co-workers, Domestic, Domestic Bliss, Domestic Fluff, Domestic Violence, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Finger Sucking, Fingerfucking, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Fluff and Humor, Fluff and Smut, Gay Male Character, Gay Sex, Gun Violence, Head Injury, Hospitalization, Hospitals, M/M, Major Character Injury, Oral Sex, Romantic Fluff, Shooting, Shower Sex, Weddings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-04
Updated: 2018-05-15
Packaged: 2019-05-01 22:05:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 34,252
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14530200
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/country13/pseuds/country13
Summary: This is a three-chapter fic inspired by the song, "The Good, The Bad, and The Dirty" by Panic! at the Disco.  The story doesn't really relate to the song, I just thought it was a really awesome song title.  As usual, the first thing I thought of was Gallavich:) Thanks for reading! Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!





	1. The Good

**Author's Note:**

> This first chapter is Gallavich domestic bliss, hence the title, "The Good."

Ian Gallagher lazily stroked his fingers through the brunet hair belonging to his sleeping boyfriend, Mickey, as they lay in their bed, his chest up against Mickey’s warm back, listening to the deep breaths that came with each rise and fall of his shoulders.  Ian kissed Mickey softly on each shoulder, then again between his shoulder blades, breathing his scent in deeply as he made his way across.  He smelled so fucking good.  So sweet, but so manly, so _Mickey._  The other man didn’t stir, continuing to snore lightly as he slept.  Ian moved his hand from Mickey’s hair to splay it across his chest, gently rubbing back and forth, careful to avoid Mickey’s nipples, knowing how sensitive they were.  He smiled at the memory of the first time he discovered that little fact.  It was the night that Mickey finally came out to a room full of drunken assholes at the Alibi, namely Mickey’s dad, Terry, the drunkest and biggest asshole of them all. Terry Milkovich had been livid at Mickey’s confession, beating the shit out of both he and Mickey, earning himself another stint in prison for breaking his probation.  But they gave as good as they got and beat his ass too before he was hauled off to prison.

The Alibi Room was the local bar they had frequented since Ian’s sister, Fiona’s best friend, Vee, and her husband, Kev owned it.  That night it became particularly special to them, as it was the place that finally gave Mickey his freedom, let him live his life like he wanted to, on his terms.  Ian had been so proud of his boyfriend that night, so giddy that they could finally be a real couple without worrying about what anybody fucking thought.  They could now kiss in public, hold hands if they wanted to.  Not that Mickey would’ve done any of those things since he still had a reputation as the South Side’s biggest, baddest thug to uphold, but still, it was nice knowing they could without remorse weighing them down.

Later that same night, they had barely made it back to Mickey’s house and entered the front door before Ian attacked him, throwing him up against the wall and kissing him rough and hard on his mouth, his neck, anywhere that skin was exposed, Mickey returning the kiss with equal enthusiasm. They eventually made it to Mickey’s bedroom where they made love for the first time.  It wasn’t the first time they had sex or fucked, but it was the first time they had made love.  It had felt like the first time for both of them, like they were both born again, both free from the shackles of societal expectations.

Their lovemaking that night had been sensual and passionate, Ian releasing years of pent up frustration and anxiety at what they had had to endure together because of Mickey’s fears, however warranted.  Ian had wanted Mickey to really know and understand just how much he was cherished and how truly fucking happy Ian was that he had done what he had done.  He had risked losing his family and losing his own life, for Ian. 

Mickey’s shame and doubt had melted away with each caress of Ian’s hand or brush of his lips.  They had gently kissed each bruise and every scar on each other’s faces, silently grateful for what those marks truly meant.  However painful they had been at the time, in that moment, they had taken on a whole new meaning.  They were marks of freedom and salvation and both men had worn them proudly.

They had explored each other’s bodies like they never had before that night, memorizing the other man’s every soft plane of skin and every sinewy muscle.  Ian had run his tongue along every inch of Mickey’s body, and when he had lightly circled one of Mickey’s nipples, the brunet had jumped suddenly and bumped Ian’s head reflexively, effectively ending Ian’s nipple teasing.  “Shit, that tickles, man!”

“Ow! Fucker!” Ian scowled.  He looked up into blue eyes and his scowl was replaced with a wicked smile at the little secret he had just discovered about his man.  Sure, fast and hard fucking was fantastic, but there was something to be said about taking it slow and easy, discovering each other’s bodies, treasuring each and every second of their newly found freedom. 

It suddenly felt like to both of them that they had all the time in the world. Ian made his way down to Mickey’s beautiful ass and lifted his legs up and spread them wide to gain easier access to his ring of nerves.  He took his time as he painstakingly licked over his hole a few times, driving the impatient brunette crazy.  “Fuck me with that tongue, Ian.  Come on,” Mickey pleaded.  Ian, excited by his boyfriend’s words, enthusiastically complied, thrusting his tongue hard and fast inside him.  “Oh, fuck!” Mickey grabbed Ian by the back of his head and pressed his face deeper into him, wanting to feel his tongue all the way inside him.  He couldn’t get close enough.  “Yes, right there! That’s it!”  Ian moaned as Mickey pulled his head down, causing the reverberations to travel up and down his entire body.  God, Ian was so fucking good at that.  Mickey was wrecked, being torn apart in the best fucking way possible. “Come here, Ian.”

Ian hesitantly ended his feasting, really not wanting it to end.  Mickey tasted so fucking good that he could do that forever and never get tired. But when he looked up into those blue eyes and saw the desire there, he couldn’t help but be drawn to him.  He crawled up Mickey’s body, kissing a trail up his chest until he reached those full, plump lips and kissed him feverishly until they were both out of breath.  That was another first.  Mickey had never let Ian kiss him after eating him out.  He had just recently let him even do that, but had found that he really fucking loved it.  But the kissing was a big ‘fuck no’ until that night. All bets were seemingly off and Ian loved it.

As Mickey broke away from their kiss, he laid back on his pillow and guided Ian upward.  “Put your knees beside my head and grab the headboard.” Ian did as he was asked, not sure what Mickey had planned quite yet, but knowing he was going to love it, whatever it was. Before he could wonder anymore, Mickey’s mouth stretched over Ian’s hard, thick cock as he took him all the way in until his cock hit the back of Mickey’s throat.  Ian rested his forehead on his forearm, the sensation causing his knees to go weak.  “Oh, fucking hell, Mick. I love that you don’t have a gag reflex.” Mickey’s hot, wet mouth felt so fucking good, Ian didn’t know if he was going to be able to stay upright for long. That is until Mickey said his next statement.

After bobbing up and down a few times on Ian’s length, Mickey popped off and said, “Fuck my mouth, baby.”  Oh, holy shit.  Just those words had Ian falling apart at the seams. This was a side of Mickey he had never seen before.  Damn, they should’ve kicked Terry’s sorry ass a lot sooner if this was going to be the result.

His body shaking with anticipation, Ian pulled himself up, braced his hands on the headboard and lined his cock up with Mickey’s mouth. He pushed in, moaning at the feeling of Mickey’s cheeks hollowed out as he sucked him down. Ian began to rock his hips in and out, slowly at first, then picking up the pace when he was encouraged by Mickey’s hands on his ass setting the faster pace.  Goddamn, Ian was so turned on by Mickey’s enthusiasm, he was worried he was going to come a hell of a lot sooner than he wanted to. He stopped his hips and slowly removed his cock from his mouth. “Baby, as bad as I don’t want to, we need to stop.  I don’t want to come yet.” Mickey nodded his understanding and wiped his mouth. 

Ian grabbed the lube from Mickey’s headboard and crawled back down his body.  He slicked up one of his thumbs.  He lifted Mickey’s legs and slowly breached his hole, causing him to moan in pleasure.  “Jesus, Ian. That feels so fucking good.”  When Ian’s thumb was all the way in, he started moving it in and out, hitting his prostate each time.  After a few strokes, he pushed his thumb all the way back in again. With his other fingers splayed out, he turned his hand back and forth, fingers pointing up, then fingers pointing down, changing the angle of his thumb in Mickey’s ass with each turn. As he continued pushing in and out, he leaned up and slowly swallowed Mickey’s cock down, savoring the feeling of his heaviness on his tongue as his length inched its way down his throat.  He began a steady rhythm that matched the rhythm of his thumb. 

Mickey lifted his ass, never feeling like he could get close enough.  He wanted to feel Ian’s mouth, his hands, everything, everywhere.  “Fuuuuck,” Mickey moaned.  “I can’t…….I’m ready. Goddamn, I’m ready.”  The sensations Ian was causing in him were finally too much. He patted Ian on the head.  “Fuck me with that cock, Ian.” Ian popped off Mickey’s cock and removed his thumb and shocked the shit out of Mickey when he put his thumb in his own mouth and sucked on it seductively. “Nasty fucker,” Mickey smirked.

“Nothing nasty about your ass at all, Mick,” Ian responded as he pulled his wet thumb out of his mouth. Ian grabbed the lube again and slicked up his cock good, waiting for Mickey to turn over on his hands and knees.  He was shocked though when Mickey didn’t move.

“I want to watch you while you fuck me,” Mickey said hesitantly as he rubbed his hands up and down Ian’s chest, not able to meet his eyes.

Ian leaned over him, forcing Mickey to look at him.  When his blue eyes finally met Ian’s green, Ian asked, “Are you sure?”

Mickey nodded. “Yeah, I’m sure.”   Ian was so amazed at the courage Mickey was showing tonight, and not just in this moment.  He was so brave, taking on his father like he had, admitting his deepest, darkest secret to a room full of people.  And now, he was experimenting with Ian in ways he had never allowed himself to before.  It was so liberating for Ian, and he couldn’t imagine how it must have felt for Mickey.  But if tonight was any indication, it felt pretty fucking great. 

Ian leaned down and pressed his lips to Mickey’s.  The kiss was deep and meaningful, Ian wanting Mickey to know how proud he was of him to take this next step with him.  While still kissing him, he lined his cock up with Mickey, slowly pushing into his tight heat. “Fuck, Mick, you’re so tight. You feel so good.” He kept pushing in slowly until he was all the way in.  “You okay?”

“God, yes, Ian. So full.” He put his hands on either side of Ian’s neck and looked up into his eyes. “This angle is so different. Feels good.”

“You sure?” The last thing Ian wanted to do was hurt him.

“Fuck, yes. You can move. Please.......” Mickey moaned. “Move.”

Once Ian was assured that he wasn’t hurting him, he began pounding into him so hard, the headboard was banging loudly against the wall, knocking all the shit off and some of it landing on Mickey’s head.

“Oh, shit, sorry,” Ian apologized as he continued fucking into Mickey.

“Don’t care.  Don’t fucking stop!” Mickey put his hand around his shaft and started pumping hard and fast, matching Ian’s punishing rhythm. His hands were on either side of Mickey’s head, his hips gyrating with each thrust.

“You feel so good around my cock.  So fucking hot, Mick.”

“Grab the fucking headboard.  Fuck me harder, “Mickey demanded, still not able to get close enough to Ian, no matter what they did.

Ian loved his bossy ass bottom. He complied since everything was already knocked off the headboard and he didn’t have to worry about injuring Mickey in the process.  Gripping the headboard tightly, he began thrusting impossibly harder into Mickey, hitting that bundle of nerves inside him every damn time. “Fuck, Mick.  Are you close? I’m gonna fucking come.”  He slowed slightly.  “You first.”

“Don’t fucking slow down.  I’m close.  Keep going!” Ian picked up his pace again and he looked down at Mickey’s face right at the moment he came, screaming Ian’s name, his face scrunched up in ecstasy as his come spilled all over his stomach.  Holy fuck that was hot watching him come like that.  Another first. Yeah, face to face was a hell of a lot better.

Mickey’s muscles were constricting on Ian’s cock, massaging his shaft and driving him totally fucking mad.  “Oh, shit. Mick, I’m gonna fill you up with my come.  Fuck!”

“Do it, baby.” Mickey grabbed Ian’s ass, pushing him even faster and harder into him.  That brought Ian over the edge and he came so hard, he screamed out incoherently and collapsed on top of Mickey, totally gone.  He rested his head in the crook of Mickey’s neck as Mickey rubbed his hand through the redhead’s sweaty hair as they breathed hard against each other, their hearts almost beating out of their chests. 

“Holy shit, that was good.” Ian finally found his voice after a few moments.

Mickey surprised Ian with his next statement. “Thanks, Ian.” 

Ian looked up into his boyfriend’s eyes, a befuddled look on his face. “For what?”

Mickey continued to rub Ian’s hair affectionately. “For being there for me tonight.  And for pushing me.  If it hadn’t been for you, I never would have come out. I would have been stuck in the fucking closet forever.”

Ian smiled.  “Well, I didn’t go about it the best way, threatening to leave and all.  I really didn’t know all that shit was gonna go down.  And I _really_ didn’t expect you to do that,” Ian laughed.  “But I’m glad you did.  And I’m so fucking proud of you.” He leaned down to place a chaste kiss on Mickey’s lips. “Plus, we don’t have to see your asshole father for a while.”

“Shhh.”  Mickey put his finger to his lips.  “Don’t fucking mention him.  He’s not ruining this night for us.  He’s not ruining anything for me anymore.  Fuck him.”

“Fuck him,” Ian agreed. 

They had stayed wrapped up in each other’s arms long after they had both become completely spent and had passed out from sheer exhaustion. That night, alone together, they had felt like they were the only two people in the world.

Ian glanced at their alarm clock on the nightstand. 10:41am. He loved lazy Sundays, since they were so few and far between nowadays.  Ian worked crazy shifts as an EMT, his schedule always grueling and always all over the place.  Mickey worked with Ian’s brother Lip at AJ’s garage, a local motorcycle repair shop.  He was usually off on the weekends, except when his boss needed extra help on Saturdays when the workload was too much to finish during the week.  Mickey was always willing to go in to work and help, especially if Ian was working.  The overtime pay was nice too, and Lord knew they could use it. 

Ian worked a lot of weekends so his co-worker, Rosie, could spend time with her kids who she shared custody of with her ex-husband.  Rosie was nice enough and worked hard to be a good mother to her kids, so Ian was more than willing to help her out.  Ian’s partner, Sue, was older and her kids were all grown and moved away, so it was just her and her new husband, Roger, so she was also available for those dreaded weekend shifts. But, like Ian, she was more than happy to help her co-worker.  Sue had only been married to Roger for a few months, so Ian figured they were still in the honeymoon stages of things, even though she was always coming in to work when someone needed her to fill in. She was dedicated, Ian could give her that.  She was a great partner, and they had a great working relationship.  They trusted each other and had each other’s backs no matter what. It sure made the long hours and unpredictability of the job much easier to handle.

While his boyfriend still slept, Ian rolled over and slipped quietly out of bed to jump in the shower.  He padded toward the bathroom down the hall, grabbing a towel out of the linen closet on his way.  He looked down at the bottom of the closet and noticed a DVD case lying there.   _How the hell did that get there?_ He leaned down to get a closer look and smiled fondly at what he saw. _Under Seige_ , Mickey’s favorite Steven Segal movie.  Boy, that brought back memories.  He and Mickey had watched that movie the first time they had spent the night together.  Well, to be honest, they hadn’t partaken in much movie watching, finding much better ways to occupy their time. It was a magical night full of hot make out sessions and eventually building up to several rounds of hot fucking on the couch. Everything was perfect, until the next morning.  But they don’t speak about that.  All of that was behind them, a shameful, greasy spot on their past that had no bearing on where they were now, which was a very good place, despite all of that.

The one good thing that came out of that whole situation was Yevgeny, Mickey’s son.  Yevgeny was ten years old now, and he was Mickey made over.  Bright blue eyes, expressive brows.  Yeah there was no mistaking that Yev was his father’s son. Mickey struggled with Yev’s existence the first few years of his life, not fully being able to let go of the shame and guilt of how his son came into this world in the first place.  But Mickey, with Ian’s help had finally realized that Yev didn’t ask to be brought into this world, and it wasn’t Mickey’s fault that he was either.  It was, of course, all Terry Milkovich’s doing, this thing that happened that they don’t speak about anymore.  Terry had walked in on Ian and Mickey together that morning, Terry had made Svetlana, his Russian prostitute and Yev’s mother, come over and “fuck the gay out of him.”  Yevgeny was the result of that heinous act.

Thankfully, after all the hellish grief Terry had caused in all of their lives, including all of Mickey’s brothers and his sister, Mandy, he was now rotting away behind prison walls somewhere, thanks to his racist and bigoted attitude.   Terry was in the middle of a drug deal going south quickly down on Lemond (?) Avenue, a breeding ground for druggies and prostitutes, when an African American man had stopped to simply ask for directions. Terry, apparently in no mood for interruptions, drew his gun and shot the innocent man right between the eyes, killing him instantly.  The judge, being very familiar with the hardened, career criminal before him, threw the metaphorical book at Terry, and the jury found him guilty of first degree murder, sentencing him to life in prison without the possibility of parole.  Good fucking riddance.

After Terry got locked up, Mickey, finally feeling like he could fucking breathe, had decided then and there that he was going to be the dad to Yevgeny that he never had.  He was going to be everything Terry wasn’t.  He was going to just be there, which that in itself was more than Mickey’s dad ever did.  At first, it was a struggle.  They knew things weren’t going to magically change overnight between the father and son.  Yev had never had a real relationship with Mickey before then, and he had been five by that time.  It was a big adjustment for all involved.  Svetlana had been very skeptical of Mickey’s motives at first.  On one hand, Ian could understand her trepidation considering this had been the first time in five years that Mickey had even acknowledged that he even had a son.  But on the other hand, he had wanted to tell the bitch to fuck off because he had known much better than her what all Mickey had gone through and how much it had meant for him to be taking these steps to attempt to salvage his relationship with his son. So, in order to not ruin what Mickey had been trying to fix, Ian had kept his mouth shut.

They had eased into it, careful to not upset Yev’s routine and structure. Mickey was thankful for that actually because, as he expressed to Ian on the day they were having Yev over to their house for the first time, he still wasn’t sure he even had the capacity to love his son.

“What the fuck am I doing? I don’t know how to love him right, Ian.  I don’t know how to be a dad.”  Mickey had shrugged his shoulders in defeat and had bitten his lip, putting teeth marks there, like he always did when he was nervous and scared.  He had looked down at his shoes, sadness and worry etched across his face.

Ian had grabbed Mickey by the shoulders.  “Look at me, baby.”  Mickey’s head had continued to hang down while he had thumbed at his lip several times, and Ian could faintly hear a small sniffle escape from the man in front of him.  “ _Look……at……me_ , _Mickey_ ,” Ian had demanded, shaking his shoulders lightly with each word. The tears that had pooled in Mickey’s eyes had fallen down his cheeks with the motion of his head as it had finally lifted. Seeing the love of his life showing that much emotion over his son and knowing that all of Mickey’s doubt had stemmed from his prick of a father, had made Ian feel like someone had reached into his chest and squeezed his heart until it broke into a million pieces.  Seeing Mickey this scared and broken had almost broken Ian, but he had been determined to be the strong one for once.  Mickey had always been the strong one in their relationship, the rock that Ian had leaned on time and time again when his world had been crumbling down around him.  Not this time.  This time, Ian had wanted to be the strong one. “You love me, don’t you, Mick?”

Mickey scoffed, knitting his brows as he spoke.  “That’s different, and you know it.” Mickey had wiped the tears angrily from his eyes with the sleeve of his shirt, clearly annoyed that his emotions were betraying him. 

“It’s a different kind of love, but it’s still love.  You can’t love someone the wrong way.  _You_ definitely can’t.  When you love someone, Mick, you love them with every fiber of your being, with your whole fucking heart.  You are the best at loving me and you will be the best at loving Yev too.” Ian had brushed his thumbs across Mickey’s cheeks, wiping away the tears that continued to fall.

Mickey had smiled despite himself, putting his hands on Ian’s arms and squeezing affectionately. “Fuck you, Dr. Phil.” 

Ian had snorted at his boyfriend’s response.  “There’s the shit talking, smart ass man I love.  Now shut the fuck up and let’s go pick up your son.”

And after that, the visits had become more frequent and Mickey’s anxiety had lessened more and more with each visit.  It was a beautiful thing to witness, how close they had become over the years. Yev quickly adjusted, as kids do, to this new person in his life, his dad.  After the initial uncertainty and distrust that was only natural, Yev had latched on to Mickey like a vise, literally and figuratively.  When they were together, Yev was Mickey’s shadow, following his dad everywhere he went and wanting to mimic everything his dad did.

Svet had become much more accommodating and agreeable now, seeing the effort that Mickey had been putting forth.  She couldn’t deny the fact that Mickey had worked his ass off to bond with his son, and if she had, Ian would have told her exactly where she could go.  He respected her as Yev’s mother, and they were all in a really good place now, but God help her if she ever said a cross word about Mickey in Ian’s presence.  The last thing he wanted to do was jeopardize Mickey’s relationship with Yev, but he would not stand by and listen to anybody, especially her, talking about Mickey. Yeah they had come a long way, but it was still a delicate balancing act.  But one thing they all agreed on-Yev was the top priority and they all had his best interest at heart.

Ian entered the small bathroom, closing the door quietly behind him.  He slid the shower door closed as he got in, cursing when the door got off track.  Again.  Mickey had been saying he was going to fix that for weeks.  Ian and Mickey’s apartment wasn’t much, but it was theirs.  They still lived on the South Side of Chicago where they grew up, just in a slightly nicer neighborhood a few miles away, far enough away to be a safe neighborhood for Yev to grow up in, but not too far away that they forgot where they came from.  Their roots were planted firmly in the South Side and they couldn’t escape them even if they wanted to.

Ian soaped up his sponge and scrubbed his body clean as he raised his face to the stream of hot water, enjoying the heat as it pummeled his body. The noise of the shower caused Ian to not hear the door slide open and closed behind him, causing him to jump when his boyfriend grabbed his hips and pulled him flush against him. “Shit, Mick, you scared the fuck outta me!”  Ian tried to turn around, but Mickey held him firmly in place.

“Sorry, babe.  I woke up and you weren’t there and I got lonely,” Mickey purred in Ian’s ear.  “Here, let me.” Mickey grabbed the sponge from Ian, adding some more body wash to it and squeezing.  Ian had already bathed and had been about to hop out, but he certainly wasn’t going to turn down a scrub down from his man.  Ian sighed and let his head fall back on Mickey’s shoulder, reveling in the feel of the sponge against his skin as Mickey circled over his chest, his abs, then back up to his shoulders. 

“Mmm, that feels sooo good,” Ian rasped. 

“Yeah? Lift your head up so I can wash your back.”  Ian complied enthusiastically, all the while feeling as if he had died and gone straight to heaven, all the stress and the worry leaving his body with every stroke of the soap-saturated sponge over his skin. Ian heard a plopping sound on the bottom of the shower and lowered his head to investigate the noise.  At the same time, Mickey’s bare hands came up and grabbed Ian’s shoulders, slowly massaging the muscles in long, powerful strokes.  “Oops, I dropped the soap.”

Ian laughed heartily at his goofy boyfriend, the sound reverberating around the tight space.  “You are such a…….”

Ian’s words were cut off by Mickey’s hands squeezing the tight muscles of his upper back and coming back up to work languidly over his shoulders again.  “I’m a what? Hmm?”

“Oh my God, baby,” Ian moaned, unable to finish his previous statement, not sure what he was even trying to say.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought,” Mickey smirked.  “That feel good?”

“Yes, Jesus.  You have no fucking idea.”

Mickey glanced over Ian’s shoulder as he continued to massage him there, noticing with desire-filled eyes that his cock was standing straight at attention, all red and swollen. Mickey licked his lips at the sight.      “I think I have a fairly good idea,” Mickey teased.  “Turn around.”

Ian did as Mickey asked and was greeted with a hot mouth on his, tongues clashing and lips biting as they embraced and melted into the kiss, holding on to each other for dear life as the water cascaded around them in hot streaks, steam rising up and surrounding the tiny bathroom. Mickey suddenly tore his lips away from Ian, causing a grunt to escape the redhead’s mouth.  He opened his eyes-no Mickey.  But his brain finally caught up with his body and it only took a nano second for Ian to realize where he had gone.  He looked down to find Mickey already on his knees, one hand firmly wrapping around Ian’s shaft, the other wrapping around his leg for balance.  He began to stroke, causing Ian’s eyes to flutter closed, his head falling back between his shoulders.

“I want you in my mouth, baby.  I’m gonna swallow you down until you’re all the way down my fucking throat.”  Before Ian could respond, Mickey began sucking the head of his dick, swirling his tongue around the tip.  He wrapped his lips around it tightly, sucking and licking the precum from his leaking slit.  Mickey grabbed his cock firmly, raising it up slightly so he could run his tongue from the base to the tip, up and down the underside.  He did this several times over and over, until finally stopping at the vein at the top, flicking his tongue quickly over it, feeling Ian’s leg muscles twitch each time he did it.  He looked down to lock his green eyes with Mickey’s blues, but he was already looking at him, both men excitedly reeling from Ian’s involuntary response to Mickey’s touch.  After doing this for several moments, Mickey traveled back down with his tongue and back up again and over the head, swallowing Ian down as promised.

“Ah, fuck,” Ian cursed, as one hand splayed across the warm, white tile of the shower wall, and one smacked loudly against the sliding door, effectively knocking it off track again.  But at this very moment, with his cock buried deep in Mickey’s throat, his lips wrapped deliciously around it while Ian watched it move in and out of his mouth, he couldn’t give two shits about that damn door.  The whole door could fall to the floor, crashing into a million glass pieces and he wouldn’t give a flying fuck.

Mickey opened his throat more to allow for Ian’s length to be taken all the way in.  He was so fucking good at that. His mouth was hot and wet on Ian’s cock, his lips sheathing his teeth as he sucked him in and out, over and over again.  Ian could feel the familiar tightening in his balls.  He wanted to beg for release, but he also never wanted the pleasure to end.  It was a very appealing predicament he found himself in.  “I’m gonna fucking come, Mickey.” 

Mickey’s mouth was replaced by his hand stroking fast and hard as he answered, “Give it to me, baby.  Give me all you got.” Mickey’s mouth was back on him again, his cheeks hollowed, sucking impossibly harder and faster.  Ian felt his dick twitch in Mickey’s mouth.  Mickey must have felt it too because he looked back up at Ian, spurring the redhead on.  That look was enough to do Ian in and he came, shooting hot, thick spurts of come down Mickey’s throat.  The brunet continued to suck him through his orgasm, draining him of everything he had and causing shocks of electricity to shoot up his spine.  When the sensation became too much for his over sensitized skin, Ian pulled back, letting his flaccid cock fall out of Mickey’s mouth.  Mickey stood up, a wide grin spreading across his face, clearly pleased with himself.  “How was that?”

“Unfuckingbelievable,” Ian answered weakly.  They kissed slowly, Ian barely able to lift his arms.  His body felt like liquid and he just knew he was going to fall down and circle the drain.  As they pulled apart, Ian grabbed Mickey’s cock, anxious to return the favor. 

“I’m ok right now, baby.  I’m gonna just wash up and be out in a second.” 

Ian looked at Mickey uncertainly.  “Are you sure?”

“Yeah, you can pay me back later. I promise.”  Mickey kissed Ian again, trying to lessen the sting of his rejection. Ian simply nodded and grabbed his towel from the towel rack beside the shower, stepping out and wrapping it around his lower body.  Mickey slid the door closed after Ian exited, assessing the door as he did. “Damn, I need to fix this door.  I’ll get on it as soon as I get out,” Mickey muttered, more to himself than anybody else.  Ian just stood there and shook his head and smiled, watching his man wash his muscular body clean.  The man was hot, and he was all his.  After everything they had been through to get where they were, Ian had to admit, life was fucking good.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

As much as Ian would have loved nothing more than to lounge on the couch with Mickey, legs tangled together, arms wrapped around each other’s bodies, watching the newest episode of _Desperate Housewives of Wherever the Fuck_ or whatever it was called, they needed food.  Especially with a 10 year old visiting every week.  It amazed Ian how somebody so small could put away so much damn food.  And Mickey was even worse, consuming any junk food he could get his hands on, especially pop tarts and barbecue Pringles-his favorites.  Trying to be health conscious around the Milkovich boys was pretty much a lost cause for Ian. 

But fuck if he wasn’t cute as shit as they walked the aisles of the supermarket, Mickey pushing their shopping cart and popping wheelies like a ten year old, like Yev would do.  The question was, did Mickey get it from Yev, or did Yev get it from Mickey? Ian could pretty much guaran-damn-tee it was the latter considering Mickey had been doing it long before Yev was ever in the picture, every damn time they went grocery shopping together.  Ian came up behind Mickey and grabbed onto the cart handle, resting his hands outside Mickey’s.  He leaned in close to rest his chest against Mickey’s back and kiss his neck softly, right under his hairline.  “You better stop that shit unless you want to fuck me right here next to the Chef Boyardee, Ian,” Mickey warned.

Ian smiled against Mickey’s skin, planting one last kiss on him before lifting himself up and stepping to the side of him again.  He scanned their grocery list to make sure they hadn’t forgotten anything, trying to return to the task at hand.  But he just couldn’t resist. “Ok, I’ll wait until we get to the Jimmy Dean sausage, and fuck you then.  Because, well, we know how much you love the sausage,” Ian teased.

Mickey turned around to face Ian and wrapped his hand around the back of Ian’s neck to pull his ear close to his mouth as he whispered, “There’s only one sausage I like, and it ain’t no Jimmy Dean,” Mickey replied darkly, as he discreetly rubbed the front of Ian’s jeans as fellow shoppers passed by them, shooting them dirty looks, Mickey not being as discreet as he thought, but they didn’t fucking care.  “You’re getting hard for me already, aren’t you, firecrotch?”

Ian sighed shakily and stepped away from Mickey’s touch in order to maintain what little control he was grasping onto.  Mickey drove him absolutely crazy even after all this time.  Their sex life was still fucking fantastic, and they worked hard at keeping things fresh and new.  They were still hot for each other, there was absolutely no doubt about that, especially considering it was taking everything Ian had not to throw Mickey down right in the middle of this aisle and have his way with him.  But Ian didn’t particularly want to get thrown out of the supermarket, so he just released a shaky breath and tore his hooded eyes away from the brunette’s and murmured, “Come on, big boy, let’s go to the meat department.  I’m suddenly in the mood for some sausage.”

________________________________________________________________________

They made it home within a few minutes and as they were unloading the groceries from the car and carrying them inside the apartment, Mickey’s phone rang.

“Yeah.”  Ian didn’t know who was on the other end of the call until Mickey looked up at him, noticing Ian had stopped what he was doing to watch him, and mouthed, _Svet_. Ian wondered idly what she wanted.  It was out of the ordinary for her to call for anything since by now they all pretty much had the raising of Yev down to a fucking science.  They really all worked together like a well-oiled machine, most of the time. It had taken a long time for them to get there, but they were there all the same.  Ian’s nerves prickled slightly as he listened on with raised interest.

“I’m sorry to hear that. Let me check with Ian and look over our schedules, and I’ll let you know. “Mmm hmm.  Ok. Ok. Bye.”

Mickey pressed the end call button on his phone with one hand, rubbing his other hand across the back of his neck, another one of his nervous ticks.  Oh shit, this can’t be good.  Ian raised his eyebrows and waited expectantly for Mickey to elaborate.  When he didn’t, and looked like he was deep in thought, the imaginary wheels spinning in his mind, Ian couldn’t stand it any longer. “Well? What did she say, baby?”

            Mickey looked like he was contemplating something before he answered.  “Do you know yet what your schedule is for next weekend?”

            Ian continued to unload the groceries and put them away as he responded. “I work a double Friday so I’m off on Saturday, and I work the graveyard shift Sunday night.”  Ian stopped what he was doing to glance over at Mickey, who was still looking nervous as hell.  “Why?”

            “Svet’s grandfather died and she has to go to the funeral out of town.  Yev has never met him, so she asked me if I could keep Yev next weekend while she’s gone.”

            Ian couldn’t help but breathe a sigh of relief.  Mickey was acting like she had asked him to murder someone or something.  “Ok, that’s no big deal, right? We’ll have fun together. He’s spent the weekend with us before, ya know.”

            “Yeah, I know. But you’re off on Saturday and most of Sunday and I don’t want to screw up our time together.  With your schedule all fucked up the way it is, who knows when we’ll get another day off together.”

 Mickey seemed to be really distraught over this, but to Ian it seemed pretty simple. He walked over to where Mickey was standing in their little breakfast nook, threaded the fingers of both their hands together and looked deep into his boyfriend’s beautiful blue eyes.  “Hey. Remember what we said? Yev is our main priority.  Nothing comes before him, ok?  We’ll figure it out.” Mickey nodded.  “Besides, Yev loves his Ian.”

Mickey beamed up at him as he raised their joined hands to his chest and spoke softly.   “What’s not to love, huh?” 

Ian’s cheeks turned red at Mickey’s words.  “Fucking sap.”  Ian slapped his palms against Mickey’s chest and playfully shoved him, turning to head back into the kitchen to finish with the groceries, Mickey following behind him.  “Hey, maybe you guys can go fishing again out at Lake Caroline on Saturday.  Svet said Yev didn’t stop talking about that for weeks.  I will have to catch up on my sleep anyway.”

“Yeah, that sounds like a good idea.  We might do that.” 

__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Mickey didn’t know why he was so nervous.  He and Ian and Yev had spent plenty of weekends together the last five years.  They had done every kid activity under the fucking sun.  Yev seemed to worship the ground his dad walked on and he loved Ian too. They had had the ‘Is Ian your boyfriend’ talk a couple years ago when Yev’s curiousity had finally gotten the best of him.  Mickey had grown to love Yev so much, it was scary.  Maybe that’s what it was.  Mickey didn’t love many people, didn’t trust enough to allow himself to be that vulnerable.  But when he did, he loved them with everything he had.  It took him a lot of years and a lot of convincing from Ian that he was capable of doing that. He loved Ian so much that for the longest, he thought there wasn’t any more room in his heart for Yev.  He honestly believed that Ian took up the whole space.  He didn’t want to open himself up to anyone else, not even his own son.  But that fear mostly dwindled and he allowed himself to fall head over heels in love with his kid.  As much as he loved Yev though, there was always that little voice in the back of his head that sounded a lot like Terry that told him he wasn’t good enough.  That told him he couldn’t be a good dad.  Most of the time he could tamp it down and ignore it.  Other times, like today, that fear and doubt came crawling back up.

Mickey’s nose brought him out of his reverie as the smell of frying sausage permeated the air.  _What the hell?_   Mickey walked down the hall to investigate, his face lighting up instantly as soon as he saw Ian standing at the stove in the kitchen.  “’Morning, babe.  I didn’t know you were home yet.”  Even though Mickey was nervous, he had no intention of letting Ian know that, his false bravado firmly in place as not to cause Ian any worry.  He didn’t need that, especially now when he was just getting off work from pulling a double, and looked like he was dead on his feet.

Even as tired as he no doubt was, he still managed a smile that made Mickey’s stomach do little flips.  God damn.

“Good morning to you too. I just got home and wanted to make you a good breakfast before your fishing excursion with Yevvy, “ Ian beamed as he flipped the sausage in the frying pan, cursing as the grease popped up and hit him on the arm.

“You haven’t even changed out of your work clothes, Ian.  However, I do love a man in uniform.”  Mickey reached up to kiss Ian on the lips as he made his way to the coffee pot, noticing that it had already been made and had just finished brewing.  “Damn, you even made the coffee.  A man after my own heart.”      

“I haven’t been with Mickey Milkovich all these years without learning a few things.” Ian continued to flip the sizzling sausage in the pan.  “You are a grumpy little bitch when you haven’t had your coffee, and I’m not going to subject sweet, little Yevvy to your wrath.” They shared goofy smiles as Mickey poured them both a cup. “How was your shift?” Mickey came up beside Ian, sitting his coffee cup on the counter beside the stove.  He patted Ian on the ass before going to sit down at the table.

Ian took a sip of his steaming hot coffee before he answered. “It was brutal.  Two car accidents, a fucking house fire, and a gunshot wound to the head.  Sue called in sick, so Rosie had to cover her shift.  I swear there was a damn full moon last night or something.”

Mickey was absolutely in awe of his boyfriend.  He was so fucking proud of him at how far he had come in his life.  He could never do what he did for a living.  Ian was out there saving lives and helping people, and Mickey was putting spark plugs on motorcycles.  He was so smart and so brave, much smarter and braver than Mickey could ever be.  Especially considering the obstacles he has had to face.  Mickey had a prick for a father, yeah, and his family wasn’t that close, not nearly as close as Ian’s, but none of that compared to what Ian had gone through, at least in Mickey’s mind.

When they were both still young teenagers, stupidly happy and in love, they were dealt a devastating blow.  Ian was diagnosed with bipolar disorder, the same mental illness that plagued his mom’s mind.  Ian had gone through a couple bad manic episodes before he was diagnosed that scared the life out of Mickey.  During these times, he wasn’t Mickey’s Ian anymore.  He was energetic, staying up all hours of the night one minute, and slipping into a deep, dark depression the next where he would stay in bed for days on end.  It was scary as hell, but Mickey had tried his best to be the supportive boyfriend Ian needed, even though he had tried to push Mickey away, not fully understanding what was happening to him at the time and not wanting his boyfriend to have to deal with whatever it was.   Mickey had tried stubbornly to take care of Ian all on his own at first, not wanting any help from anyone, even though Ian’s brothers and sisters tried to help.  Like everything else, they were going to figure this out together, just the two of them.  Ian was his family, the only true family he had ever known, and he would be damned if he was going to abandon Ian when he needed him the most.

But, eventually, the demons Ian was fighting became too strong for Mickey to overcome, so he had to finally reach out for help.  Ian spent time in a psychiatric hospital. It was actually three days, the longest fucking three days of Mickey’s life.  They had never spent that much time apart the whole time they’d known each other.  On that third day, Mickey was practically crawling out of his skin.  Ian got on some anti-psychotic meds and when he was released, Mickey picked him up and took him home.  They lay together in bed that night and while Ian mostly slept due to the new medications, Mickey just watched him.  Watched him sleep, watched his chest rise and fall with each breath.  He seemed calmer, more at peace, the demons subdued for the time being.

Once the meds became regulated in Ian’s system, he began to act more like Mickey’s Ian again, much to Mickey’s relief.  He began telling his goofy jokes again that had always caused Mickey to roll his eyes.  Not anymore.  Ian could tell any fucking joke he wanted to, the goofier the better.  Mickey knew he’d loved Ian with all his heart for a long time, but he hadn’t realized just how much until they went through that ordeal together.  It was sad that it took something like that for him to realize it.  But Mickey knew without a doubt that he would do anything to take care of Ian and protect him through thick and thin, good times, bad, sickness, health, all that shit.

            “Have you taken your meds?” Mickey asked.

            Ian raised his hand to his mouth at that exact moment and swallowed down a handful of pills, chasing them with a glass of water.  “Yes, _mom_ ,” Ian said sarcastically.

            “Fuck you, asshole.”  Mickey said without venom.  “Somebody’s gotta keep you straight.”

            “Ain’t nothing straight about me, baby,” Ian smirked and snapped his fingers.  “Now come get your damn breakfast.”

            Ian had made bacon, eggs, and biscuits, and it was fucking delicious.  That was one of the many things Mickey loved about Ian.  The man could cook his fucking ass off.  They sat in comfortable silence for a couple minutes, eating their food.  “Thank you for doing this, babe.  I know you’ve got to be fucking beat.”

Ian sighed tiredly.  “I am.  In fact, I’m going to head on to bed to try and catch up on some sleep. “ He stood and brought his dishes to the sink.

            “Leave those there.  I’ll get them.”  Mickey knew Ian must have been tired, because he didn’t even argue.   Ian usually liked to do the dishes because he claimed that Mickey didn’t clean them properly and left food caked on them. But Ian came back around to the table, not saying a word until he came up beside Mickey who was still sitting at the table.

            “You and Yevvy have fun on your fishing trip, ok?” Ian leaned down to plant a sloppy kiss on his boyfriend’s lips.

            “We will.  Hope Yev doesn’t get his hook caught in a tree again. That was a bitch to get out.”

            Ian giggled lightly and wrapped his arm around Mickey’s shoulders, hugging the man to him.  “Be careful, ok? I love you. And tell little man that I love him.” He kissed Mickey on the forehead and turned to head to the bedroom.

            “Love you too, babe,” Mickey called out to him as he watched him disappear into the bedroom.  And he did.  He really fucking loved that redhead.

___________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

            The sun was out in all its glory, and there was not a cloud in the sky.  The perfect weather for fishing. Mickey hummed along to the music on the radio as he headed to Svet’s house to pick up Yev.  She only lived about twenty minutes away which was perfect because she was far enough away to not be annoying as fuck and close enough that Yev could visit any time he wanted.  Mickey really looked forward to his time with Yev, he just wished Ian could be with them, but he completely understood Ian’s hectic schedule since they had been dealing with it for several years now.  Besides, it was nice for Mickey and Yev to have these father/son bonding moments.  It took Mickey a while to work up to being alone with Yev, always using Ian as a buffer, but he was much more comfortable now.  Even though he still got nervous as hell, he had made leaps and bounds in his relationship with his son.  He just wanted to be perfect in Yev’s eyes and didn’t want to do anything to disappoint him.  They were really close, and Mickey was beginning to believe that he could really do this dad thing.  He wasn’t so bad at it after all.

Beside him in the passenger seat were his and Yev’s road trip snacks that he had stopped by the store to get on his way.  Skittles and Dr. Pepper for Yev, and Barbecue Pringles and Blue Gatorade for Mickey.  Mickey had a good mind to tell Svet to just go ahead and send Yev’s dentist bill to him so he wouldn’t have to hear her bitch about all the sugar he lets Yev have.  But fuck it, this was their weekend to do whatever they wanted and if the kid wanted sugar, the kid was going to get fucking sugar.

 Mickey couldn’t believe how smart he was either.  He always made honor roll in school, was in all advanced classes.  Mickey wondered sometimes if this was really his kid! He was so proud of Yev, and if he was being honest, he was proud of Svet too.  The way Yev came into this world was completely fucked up, but he had to give it to Svet.  She really stepped up and did a great job of raising Yev when Mickey couldn’t be there for him.  She had done it all alone, so he would always respect her for that.

As he pulled up on the curb in front of Svet’s house, she was already at the door with Yev, kissing and hugging him goodbye.  Yev was wearing the Superman backpack that he and Ian had gotten him for school.  He had his fishing pole in one hand and his little tackle box in the other.  He was so stinking cute.  When they heard the car pull up, Yev was raring to go, pulling away from his mom before she was ready to let him go, clearly excited to see his dad.  Pride bloomed in Mickey’s chest at that and a big grin spread over his entire face. 

As Yev ran toward the car, Mickey got out to help him put away his things. He waved at Svet before she disappeared back inside the house again.  He was so glad they were past the point of having to exchange pleasantries and having to see Svet’s sneering, disdainful look every time he came to get Yev, especially if he was with Ian.  That really pissed him off at first and it took everything in him not to cuss her out, but he kept the peace for his son’s sake.  Eventually she came around and she and Ian got along pretty well now, even if only for Mickey and Yev’s benefit. 

“Hi, dad!”

“Hey, buddy.” Yev practically jumped in Mickey’s arms even with his hands full.  Any nervousness he had felt melted away, along with his heart.

“Where’s Ian?” Yev asked, as they put his fishing gear and backpack in the backseat. 

“He had to work a long shift yesterday, so he’s really tired and needed some sleep.  He hates he missed it though.”  They got in the car and Yev’s face lit up when he saw his snacks.  Mickey’s heart fluttered in his chest.  “Ian said to tell you he loves you, though.”

“Tell him I love him too, ok?”

“Ok, son.”

As usual when they first got in the car, Yev started messing with the radio, tuning it to some pop music station.  Oh Jesus, this was going to be another long car ride.  Haven’t kids nowadays heard of fucking rock and roll?  After he dug into his Skittles and began chugging his drink, Yev began telling Mickey about school, what they were studying, and how his best friend, Andy, said he could beat him at Mario Kart, and he couldn’t wait to invite him over to Mickey’s house to prove him wrong. 

He talked animatedly for a while, Mickey just sitting back and listening to him as he drove.  He was so funny when he told his stories.  Mickey didn’t know where he got that from.  He began talking about what kind of fish he thought they would catch and how much fun he had on the last trip they took to the lake.  It made Mickey so proud that his son was that excited about doing something with him.  Mickey was equally as excited.

Yev came up for air and got pensively quiet for a few minutes.  Mickey glanced over at him and saw those infamous Milkovich wheels spinning in his son’s head, while his little hands fidgeted in his lap.  “What is it, son?”

“Can I ask you a question, dad?”

“Shoot.” Mickey took a drink of his Gatorade as he waited for his son’s question.

“Are you a master baiter?”

The windshield was suddenly sprayed with blue Gatorade as Mickey spit his drink out in all different directions, coughing and sputtering so much that Yev began hitting him on the back, although his efforts were in vain.  “Are you ok, dad?” Yev asked, his little voice shaky.

Mickey, still coughing, ignored his question and grabbed the steering wheel, trying his damnedest not to veer into the next lane and hit the car beside them.  “Yev! What the fuck did you just say?!”

“Are you a …………….”

 “No! I heard you." Mickey put his hand up quickly to stop him. " Where in the hell did you hear something like that?!”

“I was talking to this 6th grader, Nick Holmes, at lunch one day and was telling him all about our last fishing trip and how many fish we caught and how I got my hook stuck in a tree but that you got it untangled and fixed me a new one and how you always put my bait on my hook for me since I have a hard time catching the jumpy crickets and he said, ‘your dad must be a master baiter.’  All the kids around him started laughing, I don’t know why.  I thought they were laughing at you and that made me mad, but then I thought maybe they were just happy that my dad was a master baiter.  You are good at it, though, right?”

Oh, sweet Jesus, Mickey thought he was fixing to have a heart attack and never see his son grow up.  Poor Yev.  Mickey wanted to beat the shit out of that little fucker who took advantage of his kid and just wanted to get a laugh at his expense.  How in the hell was he going to handle this one? Fuck Ian and his fucking sleep.

“Look Yev,” Mickey began, “I don’t think you should use that word.  Let’s think of another way to say it, ok? Something way cooler.”

Yev still had a confused look on his face, totally oblivious.  Thank fuck.

Mickey considered for a moment and then said, “What about King Baiter? How does that sound? Your dad could be a king!”

“Hmm, King Baiter.” Yev looked as if he was mulling the phrase over in his mind.  “I like that title for you, dad.  It would be cool to have a dad who’s a king.” Yev’s excitement level rose steadily as he continued.   “You could be the King Baiter, and _I_ could be the Master Baiter.  We would catch every fish in the lake!”

Mickey slapped his palm against his forehead.  Shit.

________________________________________________________________________________

            “What gives, Gallagher? You still haven’t given me an answer.”  Ian and his partner, Sue, were in the middle of the mundane task of going through their checklist of supplies and equipment on their rig.  Rig checks took about two hours and were a bitch to have to do, but they didn’t want to be in the middle of an emergency somewhere and realize they didn’t have something they needed.  Sue _would_ pick this particular time to badger him for the one hundredth time about Rosie’s birthday party at her house next Friday.  Now normally, Ian would never wish any harm on another human being, especially one that he was responsible for saving, but he would give anything to have a seven car pile-up or something come over their radio right about now.  Anything to avoid having this conversation.  Again.

Ian stopped what he was doing to give her a pointed look.  “I told you, Sue, I don’t think Mickey will want to go.  He is very much a homebody. He would hate it.”

Sue looked at him, lifting her eyebrows in a manner that reminded him of a certain brunet.  “And how do you know? Hmm? Have you asked him?”

Ian sighed. “Well….not exactly.” Another conversation he did not want to have. “But I don’t have to.  I know my boyfriend.”

“Just ask him, shithead.  He might surprise you.”

Yeah , right.  Ian knew Mickey well enough to know how that conversation was going to go.  Mickey was definitely one of those ‘support from afar’ type of boyfriends.  He did not want to socialize with anybody, much less a bunch of people from Ian’s work he didn’t even know.  But Ian really wanted to go to celebrate with Rosie and get a chance to hang out with everybody outside of work.  They had already made arrangements to have some of the volunteers to come in and cover their shifts. And if Ian was being honest, he really wanted Mickey to come with him, but he didn’t want him to do anything he didn’t feel comfortable with. He sure loved the idea of walking in there with that beautiful brunet by his side though, showing him off to all his co-workers.  No one at work had ever even met him before, except for Sue, and that was by accident when they ran into her at the supermarket. After contemplating for a little while longer, Ian decided.  He would ask Mickey tomorrow when he got off from working this long ass double shift.

________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

Lying on a cot in the squad room, Ian was sacked out.  He loved the quiet nights of uninterrupted sleep they got.  They were unfortunately very rare.  But Ian didn’t complain.  He absolutely loved what he did, saving people’s lives.  He loved the rush of it, the adrenaline he’d feel when responding to a call.  It was unpredictable, but that’s part of why Ian loved it.  You never knew what situation you would be faced with when you got there.  Sometimes they lost lives, which sucked, but in Ian’s mind, the good outweighed the bad.      He and Sue had been working together for going on four years now.  He couldn’t imagine doing this job with anyone else.  She was a tough ass bitch who didn’t take shit from anybody, and Ian fucking loved it.  She was scary as hell, when she needed to be.  But she was also kind and generous, even if she didn’t let many people see it.  Ian knew it, he knew a lot about her.  Hell he spent more time with her than he did with Mickey. 

It was good to have somebody you can trust completely out there in the Chicago streets.  Ian trusted Sue and she trusted him.  They worked so well together and had a great camaraderie with each other.   They made each other laugh, which sure helped when the job got you down.  Losing a patient was the worst, and you needed someone who could not only handle it themselves, but could help you get through it too.  That’s what they had.

At 4:35am, Ian was in a deep sleep, dreaming of jet black hair and blue eyes, when some kind of strange noise infringed on his sleep. He couldn’t figure out for the life of him what it was and he tried to go back to sleep, but it wouldn’t go away.  Finally, he woke up enough to realize that the noise was his radio alarm, which was activated by the 911 dispatcher.  Man, he sure hated to be the poor bastards who were being dispatched at this hour until…..wait.  When he finally realized he was one of the poor bastards, he jumped up and ran out to the ambulance bay where Sue was already starting the rig.

The call was for a 10 year old girl who was having seizures at a private residence.  Ian’s first thought was of Yevvy.  _Oh shit_. Sue luckily knew where the street was without having to ask the dispatcher for directions.  She had been working as an EMT for almost 15 years and she knew her shit and she knew this city like the back of her hand.

Thankfully, there wasn’t much traffic at this time of the day so they were able to get through a lot quicker.  Five minutes later, they were pulling onto the patient’s street.  Two police cruisers were already there, blue lights flashing.  Ian jumped out first, grabbing the first aid and respiratory kits.  Sue brought the oxygen bag and defibrillator.  They ran like hell because they knew with seizures, time was brain activity. 

A police officer at the front door directed them to the girl’s bedroom.  The patient was lying flat in her bed, flanked by what they had to assume were her parents and a police officer standing at the foot of the bed. She was still seizing when they arrived.  Her parents, with tears streaming down their faces, jumped up and out of the way as soon as they saw Ian and Sue. They immediately leapt into action, Ian assessing and examining the little girl, and administering medications while Sue got a patient history.  Her name was Sarah.  After taking all of the necessary steps to treat the Sarah’s seizure, she finally started to regain consciousness.  They assessed her and she was altered which they knew was normal, but she seemed like she was out of the woods.  Ian let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding as he went to get the stretcher from the rig to transport her to the hospital.

The ambulance transport to the hospital was uneventful, and by this time it was 6:00am so they were able to quickly transfer Sarah and leave, thanks to the empty waiting room. Their shift was over but the adrenaline hadn’t stopped pumping yet for either of them.  That was what made it all worth it.  That right there.  Saving a little girl’s life.  Sparing those parents unimaginable heartbreak.  Ian knew it could have easily been Yev.  The thought made him sick to his stomach.

They were heading back out to the rig when Sue asked, “Want some breakfast?”

Ian considered that for a minute, knowing Mickey would be leaving for work in a few minutes anyway. “Sure, sounds good.  I could really go for some banana pancakes.”  Ian rubbed his tummy in big circles for effect.

“Good.”  Sue slapped Ian on the back.  “Cause you’re buying.”


	2. The Bad

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ian and Mickey's domestic bliss is challenged in a major way. And then things just continue to get worse, hence the chapter title, "The Bad."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't be too mad at me! I'm sorry:(

Chapter 2: The Bad

 

Ian and Mickey stood on the porch of Sue’s house, having already knocked, and were waiting to be let in.  Ian could hear the party already in full swing as the muffled commotion carried through the door.  Ian cut his eyes at Mickey in time to see him biting his lip and glancing around nervously, all the while puffing on a cigarette.  Ian reached over and took his hand, laced their fingers together, and squeezed. 

“Thank you for coming tonight, Mick.”

Mickey blew smoke out of his nostrils as he replied. “You know I fucking love you, right?”  Eyebrows pointed toward the night sky.

Ian nodded, understanding his meaning.  “Oh, I know.”  Ian knew how much it meant that Mickey had come with him tonight.  Mickey didn’t do people, definitely didn’t do crowds, so the fact that he was willing to come here spoke volumes to Ian, not that he didn’t already know how much Mickey loved him.  There was no question about their love for one another.  But this was a goddamn miracle. Ian had finally worked up the courage to ask Mickey the day after Sue accosted him again.  Not surprisingly, Mickey had put up a fight about it, which Ian had known he would.  They had argued, yelling at each other, slamming doors, and calling each other every name in the book.  Then they had incredibly hot make up sex and Mickey finally relented.  Ian could be quite persuasive when he had Mickey’s dick in his mouth.

Right then the door swung open and Sue beamed at them.  “Hey guys! Come on in!”

“Thanks, Sue,” Ian said.  “You remember Mickey?”

They stepped inside, Mickey carefully scanning his surroundings, so much so that he didn’t even noticed Sue’s outstretched hand.  She finally lowered it back down to her side. “Nice to see you again, Mickey.” 

“Yeah,” Mickey mutterd, “you too.” 

“What can I get you guys to drink? Wine? Whiskey? Hell, I think we even have champagne back there.  Roger has an arsenal of…….”

“You got any beer?” Mickey interrupted.

“Uh, yeah sure, there are coolers in the kitchen.  Just right through there,” Sue said, as she pointed her finger. 

Mickey looked back at Ian.  “You want anything?”

“A beer’s fine, thanks babe,” Ian responded, rolling his eyes as Sue smirked at him watching Mickey walk away.

“Boy, you’ve got it bad, Gallagher.”

“That I do, Sue.  That I do.”

“I’m so glad you guys came! To hear you talk, you made Mickey sound like some kind of hermit or something.  And I forgot how cute he was,” Sue teased.

“Hey, watch it, woman.  That’s my man,” Ian scolded with a smile plastered on his face, bumping her shoulder with his. “So where is the birthday girl?” 

___________________________________________________________________________

When Mickey came back with their beers, they made their way around the room, Ian introducing Mickey to all of his co-workers.  It felt so good to be out with him, to be able to show him off like this.  Ian loved and cherished their alone time together, but he also wanted the world to see what he had waiting at home for him every day.  Ian was a goddamn lucky man and he wanted everybody to know it. 

Mickey was handling everything pretty good so far, surely aided by the three beers he had downed already at lightning speed. Cake was eaten and gifts were opened.  Ian and Mickey had gotten Rosie a day at local spa and had offered to keep her kids while she went.  They were all standing around laughing about a joke Sue had said, when there was a commotion in the kitchen. Sue looked around nervously at the source of the noise.  Her face fell and her forehead crinkled with worry. “Be right back, guys.”

Ian followed Sue with his eyes to try to see what the hell was going on.  Something wasn’t right.  Ian never saw Sue at like that.  He always felt like her smile was permanently painted on her face because he never saw her without it.  Until now.  Ian glanced over at Mickey, thankful that he was engrossed in a conversation with Jim, one of the veteran EMTs Ian worked with.  He looked back toward the kitchen.  He couldn’t see anything from where he was standing but he could hear raised voices.

“No! Don’t!” Sue yelled.

“Watch me.”  Roger, Sue’s husband.  Ian had only met Roger a couple times and didn’t really spend enough time with him either of those times to really form an opinion of him.  But right now, he couldn’t imagine it would be very high anyway. Suddenly, their voices stopped in the kitchen and Roger could be seen entering the living room where they all were, holding a beer bottle in his hand. Great. Sue stood directly behind him. 

“So,” Roger began, his voice booming loudly over the crowd, “This is the famous Ian Gallagher I’ve been hearing _so_ much about.” The conversation beside him suddenly stopped, along with all the others in the room, and Mickey came around Ian to stand on his other side, the one closest to Roger.  “I don’t see what the big deal is, Suzie Q.” He was slurring his words so much you could barely make out what he was saying.  Sue grimaced behind him, clearly at a loss and monumentally embarrassed.  “He doesn’t look like much to me.  I bet you I could take him. Couldn’t I, Red?”

Mickey’s blue eyes were blazing with fury now as he stepped between Ian and Roger, planting his feet and facing Roger with an angry scowl.  “I suggest you step the fuck off, asshole.  Only ass that’s gonna get kicked tonight is yours if you don’t walk away. Right. Now.” Mickey’s tone was low and lethal.  The crowd was silent now, as all eyes were on Roger and Mickey.  Ian couldn’t help but notice that Roger beat Mickey in height by about six inches and in weight by at least 50 pounds.  Ian tried to grab Mickey’s arm to pull him back toward him to calm him down. Mickey yanked free of Ian’s grasp. “Ian, no.” He turned his head, cutting his eyes back at Ian in warning.

  “Mickey, come on.  Let’s go home.”

Roger took a step toward Mickey.  Mickey’s shoulders tensed as he watched Roger take a long gulp of his beer.  He then laughed humorlessly. “You better listen to your girlfriend, _Mickey_.  Unless you wanna get fucked up.”  He took yet another drink of his beer, and as he was lowering the bottle from his lips, he mumbled, “fucking fairies.”

Ian watched in horror as Mickey lunged forward, his knuckle tattoos on full display on his clenched fist, connecting it with Roger’s jaw, easily knocking the drunken man on his ass as his beer bottle went flying. Roger knocked over a lamp and broke the glass of an end table on his way down, but Mickey jumped quickly on him when he landed and proceeded to pummel his face, over and over again _. Motherfucker_! Punch. _Goddamn son of a bitch_! Punch. _Fucking asshole!_ Punch.  Ian had never seen Mickey like this, with rage in his eyes so strong, it’s like he was outside his body or something, his anger taking complete control.

Ian and Sue both each grabbed one of Mickey’s arms and after he flailed a little bit, he finally stopped his attack, breathing hard and heaving as he sat up. Roger’s face was bloody and beaten, and he was breathing hard too, especially since Mickey was still on top of him.  Ian pulled Mickey up and onto his feet, both of them stumbling in the process.  Sue was on her knees beside Roger, assessing his injuries.  The room was still stunned into silence, shock and fear thick in the room. 

“Sue, I’m…….,” Ian began.

“NO!” Sue pointed her finger at Ian angrily. “Get the fuck out of my house, Gallagher!” Her finger was now pointed toward the front door.

Ian tried again. “Sue…..”

“OUT! Right now!”

Mickey didn’t say a word to Sue, just grabbed Ian by the elbow and said, “Come on, Ian, let’s go.”  Both men turned toward the door as a room full of eyes followed them. They quickly exited the house, closing the door quietly behind them.

____________________________________________________________________________

The car ride home was long even though, realistically, it was only about 10 minutes.  Silence hung between the two men, both lost in their own thoughts.  Neither one of them said a word to each other the whole way home.  Ian drove, occasionally looking over at Mickey, whose eyebrows were scrunched in frustration while he thumbed at his lip several times and puffed on a cigarette.  Ian knew exactly what those meant.  Mickey was pissed.  Well dammit, Ian was too.  Why in the hell Mickey felt it necessary to start a fight, especially with that drunk prick, was beyond him.  He wasn’t worth it.  And these were all people Ian worked with.  People he had to face every day on the job.  How could Mickey embarrass him like that? And Sue.  Ian did not expect Sue to get as pissed as she did and he didn’t know how in the fuck he was going to fix that.  Sue was his partner, his friend at work and he needed her.

 She was so angry though and Ian had never seen her like that before. He’s never even heard her raise her voice, and especially not at him.  He also had no idea Roger was such an asshole.  Maybe it was the beer talking but Ian had a feeling he would be like that regardless.  How could Sue be with somebody who acted like that? She was so strong that Ian didn’t think she would ever put up with that kind of bullshit.  Maybe it was just the alcohol talking.  At least Ian hoped it was.

They entered the apartment, Mickey going in before Ian and heading straight for the bedroom without a single word.  Oh hell no.  “Really, Mickey? The silent treatment? What are we…..fucking twelve?”

Mickey turned to face Ian, who had now walked up and gotten right in Mickey’s face.  They were both radiating tension as they stared each other down. “Get the fuck out of my face and leave me alone, asshole,” Mickey warned as he turned back toward the bedroom. Ian grabbed Mickey’s arm to swing him around to face him. “Let go of me, dammit!”

“Not until you talk to me, Mickey!”

“What can I fucking say that you don’t already know, huh?  I told you I didn’t want to go but no, you just kept on and kept on pushing like you always fucking do until you get your way.  Maybe next time you’ll fucking listen to me and leave my ass here at home.”

“I wanted you to come with me.  I didn’t know you were going to get pissed off and start a fucking fight with Sue’s husband!”

Mickey looked at Ian, incredulous.  “Oh, so what are you saying? That is was my fault? What was I supposed to do? Just stand there and let that fucker insult you? And me? Fuck that, Ian.  I don’t work like that and you know it.”

“Well, now thanks to you, Sue’s pissed at me and we have to fucking work together!”

“We have to fucking LIVE together!”

Ian scoffed and threw up his hands in defeat. 

“I can’t help that Sue is pissed at you, but I’ll be damned if I’m gonna stand by and let some drunk asshole talk about you like that. I am not apologizing for that.”

“I could’ve handled him, Mick.  In a much calmer way I might add.  I don’t need you……..”

“Oh, you don’t need me, huh? Ok.” Mickey turned on his heels and stomped angrily toward the bedroom.  Ian followed him and watched helplessly as Mickey grabbed a bag and started throwing a bunch of his shit in it.

“What the fuck are you doing?” Ian asked from the doorway, arms now crossed in a defiant stance.

“You don’t need me, I’m fucking leaving, “Mickey mumbled.   Mickey zipped his bag, picked it up, and stormed toward Ian to leave the bedroom.  He stopped in the doorway as Ian turned to let him pass.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it.  If you would let me fucking finish!” Ian yelled, his voice getting louder with each word.  Their eyes met, not saying a word, both clinging to their pride.  The heat was emanating off their bodies as they stood close together in the doorway.  There was no denying the heat between them when they were this close, only this time it was a much different kind of heat. Ian finally relented slightly, revealing a small chink in his armor.  “Don’t do this,” Ian pleaded. They continued to stare at each other, sad green to angry blue.  Without another word, Mickey strode toward the front door, Ian following in his wake.  “Fine.  You want to be a pigheaded asshole, go ahead! You know what? As a matter of fact, I DON’T need you! Fuck you!”

The door slammed in Ian’s face, drowning out the last part.  There was nothing but deafening silence left in the apartment.  Ian turned around and slid dejectedly down the door, bending his legs at the knees.  He put his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands as the tears finally began to flow.

 

 

            It was all Ian could do to drag his ragged, tired ass to work the next day.  He thought seriously about calling in sick, but why the hell would he do that when there was nothing there but a cold bed in an even colder apartment?  He thought a million times about calling Mickey, but he just couldn’t work up the courage yet.  And Mickey hadn’t tried to call him, so he obviously didn’t want to talk to him either. 

After a sleepless night of tossing and turning on the couch, the bed just too cold and empty to face,  Ian’s head ached like hell and his body felt like it had been hit by a Mack truck.  He must not have looked much better than he felt because Tim, one of his co-workers who thankfully wasn’t at the party last night so at least he wouldn’t have to hear shit from him, commented sarcastically as Ian slowly walked in.

“Whoa, Gallagher, you look like shit.  Rough night?”

Ian nodded, instantly regretting it when he realized that even that hurt too much.  “Yeah,” he rasped, “you could say that.” Ian fixed his bloodshot eyes on the other man, silently daring him to say something else. Tim wisely kept his fucking mouth shut and walked away. 

Mickey and Ian had never had a fight like the one they had last night.  They had fights, sure, what couple didn’t? But they always worked things out.  Neither one of them had ever left angry.  Hell, as far as Ian knew, Mickey was gone for good.  God, just the thought of that made Ian’s chest constrict and his stomach tie in knots.  He would throw up if he had anything in his stomach.  He couldn’t eat, couldn’t breathe.  This can’t be it, it just can’t.  They had been through so much together, won too many wars to let this battle defeat them.

Ian kept playing and replaying last night’s events in his mind, thinking of all the things he’s wished he’d said and all the things he’d wished he hadn’t.  He was worried that his working relationship with Sue was damaged, yeah but that didn’t even compare to the hopelessness he felt at the thought of his relationship with Mickey being over.  And all Mickey had been trying to do was protect him, just like he always had.  His intentions had been good, even if his execution had sucked ass. It’s just that Ian had worked so hard to get where he was, and he and Sue were such a great team, he didn’t want to do anything to jeopardize that, even though he was afraid he already had.

But none of that even mattered if he didn’t have Mickey.  Ian needed Mickey like he needed oxygen in his lungs to breathe.  Ian couldn’t imagine his life without him, didn’t want to.  Mickey was his soulmate and the only man he ever wanted to be with.  What the hell would he do if he lost him now? No, he didn’t want to think about that.  He would get him back.  Somehow, someway, he would figure out a way to fix this.

Ian was standing at the coffee pot, silently praying to the coffee gods, and wondering how in the hell he was going to approach Sue.  He had been so distraught over Mickey leaving that he hadn’t even begun to process or plan how to repair the damage done between them.  The fact of the matter was, they had to work together.  Somehow they had to get past this.  He would talk to her, apologize for everything, and hope for the best.  In the almost four years they had worked together, they had never had a cross word between them.  They squabbled, like a brother and sister would, yeah, but this was much different.

 Ian couldn’t get the look in her eyes last night out of his head.  There had been anger there for sure, considering she threw them out of her house.   But there had also been something much deeper that wasn’t as easily readable, except to those who truly knew her, like Ian.  There had been a myriad of emotions showing all over her face, but the one that had worried Ian the most was the crippling fear that was plainly there.  Ian had never known Sue to be afraid of anything, but she was last night.  And Ian didn’t like it.  Not one bit.

Feeling just a little better now that the coffee he had drunk was now coursing through his veins, he decided it was time to get the inevitable over with and went in search of his partner. Ian made his way down the hallway when he suddenly saw Rosie turning the corner. 

“Hey, Rosie, what are you doing here? I thought your son had a baseball game?”

Rosie’s face fell at the reminder.  “Hey, Ian.  Yeah, he did but my ex-husband took him.”

Ian gave her a bewildered look.  “Why?”

Rosie grimaced. “Sue called in sick.”

Ian’s heart fell.  Great.  Now she was avoiding him.  He wanted to make things right between them but he couldn’t do that if she wouldn’t fucking come to work. He would call her later to talk to her.  He had to salvage at least one of the two most important relationships in his life today. 

“Hey, Ian.” Rosie snapped Ian out of his thoughts. “I’m really sorry about last night.”

“Why?,” Ian scoffed.  “You didn’t do anything wrong.  It was all my hotheaded boyfriend’s fault. Besides, it was your party.  We should be the ones apologizing to you.” Were they still a “we”? Could he say that anymore? Nope, not going to go there right now.

“No you shouldn’t.  It was still a great party.  If you ask me, that Roger dickhead deserved everything that he got.  Homophobic prick.” Rosie put her hands on her hips and smirked at Ian as she added, “I have to admit, that was kinda hot, Mickey protecting you like that.  It must be nice to have somebody who’s got your back like that.”  Ian’s heart shattered into a few more tiny pieces at Rosie’s words.  Sadness fell over his face and realization finally set in for Rosie. 

“Wait a minute.  Ian, are you guys okay?” Rosie placed her hand lightly on Ian’s shoulder.

Ian fought back the tears that threatened to fall, knowing that if they started, they would never stop.  His voice broke as he answered.  “No, no we’re not.”

Rosie’s sympathetic look did Ian in and hot, wet tears began falling down his cheeks, betraying him.  Rosie reached up and wrapped her arms around him in a big hug.  “Ian, I’m so sorry.  You guys will work it out, though.  From what I saw last night, you guys are too good together.  You will get through this. Mickey loves you so much.  You could tell that just by the way he looked at you.  Like you were the only person there.”

Ian knew Rosie really thought she was helping, and he appreciated it, but he really wished she would just shut the fuck up right now. Ian continued to cry on her shoulder, soaking her clean, pressed EMT uniform shirt. “I really hope so, Rosie.  I can’t make it without him.  And now Sue’s pissed at me and……..”

Rosie let go of him to look into his eyes. “He left?”

Ian stopped crying long enough to answer her weakly and swipe at his tears.  “Yeah.”

“Oh, Ian.  It will all work out.”  She hugged him again and they stood there in the middle of the hallway, embracing each other tightly for a long time, crying together.

__________________________________________________________________________

Ian had just about finally dozed off on his cot when he heard the 911 dispatcher on his radio. The call was for a domestic violence victim at a private residence.  Ian jumped into action as Rosie came from the next room and they both hopped into the rig at lightning speed.  Ian drove, speeding down the highway, steadily cursing people who didn’t immediately pull over to give them clearance.

The 911 dispatcher informed them that the victim was a 44 year old female who had gunshot wounds to the shoulder and abdomen.  “Shit, I hate these calls,” Rosie said.

“I know,” Ian replied.  “These are the fucking worst.”  Ian had responded to plenty of these calls before and the unpredictability of the job was never more apparent that when responding to a domestic violence call.  You just didn’t know until you got there what the situation was.  Was the assailant armed? Drunk? High? There was absolutely no way of knowing usually. Another difference in these calls was that they were personal. There were emotions involved that somewhere had reached a breaking point.   Ian hoped this case wasn’t a particularly bad one because he just didn’t know how much more he could take of this fucking day.  But then again, someone’s life could potentially be in danger and he here was, selfishly thinking about his own fucked up situation.  Real good, Ian.  Real good.

The dispatcher had given them directions to the address and Ian was navigating his way as fast as he could, his adrenaline again taking over as he rushed them to their destination.  At approximately eight minutes after the call, they were turning down the victim’s street.   Wait a minute.  Ian suddenly got a sinking, sick feeling in his gut as he realized where they were headed.  They pulled up to the victim’s house.  He knew this house. It was Sue’s house. 

Ian didn’t hesitate, jumping from the rig and pumping his arms and legs as he ran up the driveway toward the front door.  He heard Rosie call after him.  “Ian! Wait! We have to wait for the CPD! Don’t go in there!”

Ian ignored Rosie’s pleas.  He wasn’t EMT Ian right now.  He was Sue’s friend Ian.  He had to make sure his friend was okay.  He knew in his gut that she wasn’t.  The dispatcher had said gunshot wound to the shoulder and abdomen hadn’t she? Either one of those could potentially be fatal if the bullet went in a certain direction and hit a certain vein.  Oh God, what if she was already dead? Fucking Roger.  Ian was going to fucking kill him.

Fury, fear, and anxiety bloomed in his chest as he stormed in the front door and assessed the scene.  He looked to his left and there he saw her.  Sue was lying on her left side, her left arm outstretched, her hand still clutching her cell phone.  That was a good sign right? She hadn’t let go of it. Her right arm was slung over her body.  He noticed the gunshot wound on her shoulder, and her right hand was covering the one in her abdomen.  There was blood everywhere.  Ian ran over to her and knelt down beside her.  
            “Sue? Sue? Can you hear me?”  He didn’t want to shake her and risk injuring her shoulder further.  She was unconscious and losing a lot of blood.  Fuck. Before he could check her further, he heard a familiar voice behind him, his slurred words sending a chill up Ian’s spine.

“Well, well, well, lookee who we have here, “Roger sneered.  “I should have known they’d send the fairy.  Where’s your pit bull, Red? Whatcha gonna do without him, huh?”  Ian turned toward him, noticing the fresh scars and bruises on his face from Mickey’s assault. 

Just then Rosie ran into the house to check on Ian and Sue, against her initial better judgment.  “Ian is everything…….”

Ian cowered down and covered Sue instinctively as a gunshot rang through the room.  Rosie fell backward with a thud as the bullet landed in her side, blood gushing on impact. “Rosie!” 

Ian’s heart was jackhammering in his chest as he considered what to do next.  He stood up and turned toward Roger with his hands held up in surrender.  “Roger, everything’s going to be okay, alright? Just give me the gun.”  Ian could see on Roger’s face that he wasn’t biting. 

“You think you’re so fucking smart, don’t you? All I hear all the fucking time is _Ian did this, Gallagher said that_! Well, you know what? I’m fucking sick of it.  She ain’t singing your praises anymore is she, faggot? That dumb bitch got what she deserved.  And now you will too.” Roger raised the gun to Ian’s chest and Ian didn’t think about what to do next.  He just reacted, reaching out and grabbing the gun, gripping the barrel that was pointed at him with all his might and turning it away from him.  But Roger, even in his drunken stupor, overpowered him and snatched the gun out of Ian’s hand, turned him around and put his forearm roughly against Ian’s neck.  “You just couldn’t mind your own fucking business could you? Well, now, you’re gonna wish you had.”

Ian heard the gunshot before he felt it.  Then the searing, shooting pain set in and he realized he had been shot in the back.  His whole back exploded in a million shards of pain as his body slumped at Roger’s feet.  Then he felt something knocking into his head.  Was it a boot?   Blow after blow to his head as pain shot through it like lightning bolts He couldn’t move, couldn’t open his eyes.  He thought he faintly heard voices, sirens, and more sirens.  More gunshots.  Then……nothing.  Nothing but blackness.  Nothing but silence.

________________________________________________________________________

Well if this day couldn’t get any fucking greater.  Not only had he had to beg his brother, Iggy, to let him crash on his shitty ass couch, in his shitty ass apartment, in his shitty ass ghetto neighborhood, now he just found out that the parts he ordered were still on back order and didn’t come in today like they were supposed to.  Well, all Mickey knew was that Jake “The Hoghead” Heath was gonna be pissed the he wouldn’t be riding his Harley up to Sturgis next weekend.  Hey, but that wasn’t Mickey’s problem. All he did was fix them.  Lip dealt with the business side of things which included dealing with bitch ass customers.  Lip was the one with all the fucking brains.   The one with the brains dealt with the pains. All Mickey had to do was fix them and ditch them, and move on to the next one. 

Mickey was doing anything he could think of to stay busy and avoid thinking about missing Ian.  Being without him last night had just about killed him.   And he had just about killed Iggy when he tried to talk to Mickey about it. He just wanted to be left the fuck alone.  Iggy’s only saving grace was that he had a refrigerator full of beer and Mickey drank a bunch of them down until he finally passed out on the couch. 

Mickey couldn’t believe that Ian actually had the audacity to be pissed at him for trying to protect him.  Nobody but nobody talked about Ian, especially some drunk motherfucker, he didn’t care whose husband he was.  Mickey hoped Ian and Sue would work things out and he felt bad about causing any conflict between them, but he still stood by what he did.  He was standing up to a homophobic asshole and protecting what was his.  And Ian was his.  And he was Ian’s.  No matter how pissed they got at each other, no matter how many problems they faced, nothing would ever change that.  Nothing.

Ian knew Mickey well enough that he shouldn’t have been surprised by how he had reacted.  He’d beaten up assholes for a lot less.  Hell, he’d beaten up a little ROTC twerp who Ian was fucking under the bleachers at school one time, and they hadn’t even gotten together yet. 

 But Mickey knew how hard Ian had worked to get where he was, and he was so fucking proud of him.  He was the last person in the world who would do anything to jeopardize everything he had accomplished.  Ian loved his job, he valued it, it gave him purpose.  Mickey got that, he did.  But it would have been nice to have a little support from his boyfriend.  That’s what hurt the most.  Ian didn’t take his side when all Mickey was doing was defending him.  He didn’t want to go in the first place, and that was the exact reason why.  People were so fucking stupid and he had no need for them.  Except for one.

Mickey finally gave in to his unrelenting pride and decided to call Ian.  He wondered why Ian hadn’t tried to call him all last night.  He figured Ian didn’t want to talk to him or he would have.  The phone rang four times with no answer, and went to voicemail.  Ian was avoiding his call.  Just fucking great. Mickey decided to leave a short message on his voicemail. “Hey, ian it’s me.  Call me please.  Love you.”  Hopefully Ian would call him back soon and they could go back to their boring, mundane, perfect fucking lives.

Lip walked through the shop on his way to his office while Mickey was putting the finish touches on Mr. Curtis’s bike.  “Hey, did you talk to Heath?”

Lip looked up from his papers distractedly with a calculator in one hand and a pencil tucked behind one ear. “About what?”

“What the fuck do you think, man? About the parts that are on back order.”  Mickey looked up at Lip from his perch on his stool, wrench in one greasy hand, and a greasy rag in the other.

“What? Mickey, I thought we fulfilled that order.  Heath’s gonna be highly pissed.”

“Yeah, no shit.  That’s why I told you about it earlier today, so you could go ahead and let him down easy, since you’re so good with the words and all.”

“Fuck you.”

“See, what did I tell ya?” Mickey smirked.

“Shit, let me go call him.” Just then, Lip’s phone began to ring.  “I bet that’s him now.  Goddammit, Mickey, I’m gonna fucking kill you!”

“Hey, don’t blame the fucking messenger.  I told you about it.  It’s not my fault you suck as a shop manager,” Mickey called after him, but he had already disappeared into his office, shutting the door to take the call.

That was really bullshit though.  Although Mickey would never admit it, Lip was fucking great at his job.  He was so goddamn smart it was scary.  Most of the time, today excluded, he ran a tight ship and ran it smoothly.  Mickey and all the other repair guys respected him a lot as their boss.  He was firm but fair without being bitchy.  Mickey had been working for Lip for about three years now, and it sure beat the hell out of making runs with his asshole father or selling drugs on the streets of Chicago.  This was steady work and it kept his nose clean.  Plus Lip understood Ian’s schedule almost as much as Mickey and he was always cool about it when things came up.  All in all, Mickey figured he had a pretty sweet deal going on here.

Mickey was screwing an axle nut onto a tire when he heard Lip’s office door open and his footsteps approach.  “He was fucking pissed wasn’t he? I told you……”

“Mickey.”

“Hey, that’s why you get paid the big bucks boss man.”

“ _MICKEY_.” Mickey finally looked up at Lip, and Mickey’s whole world came crashing down around him when he noticed Lip’s ghost white face. He stood up from his stool, dropping the tool he had been holding in his hand in the process, not hearing it when it clanged against the concrete floor.

“Fuck, Lip, what is it?” Mickey’s knees were wobbling, barely able to support him, and his lip began to quiver as fear gripped him tight across his chest and the hair on the back of his neck stood up. 

“It’s Ian.  He’s been shot.”

___________________________________________________________________________

Mickey ran as fast as his legs would carry him, although it wasn’t nearly fast enough.  As he threw open the door of the shop to get to his car- _dammit Ian had the car because he took the El last night_ -he heard Lip exclaim tensely somewhere behind him, “I’ll meet you there! I’m gonna pick up Fiona and the kids! Here! Take the Miller bike!”

He caught the keys Lip threw at him from across the shop. Mickey didn’t answer him.  He couldn’t speak.  Couldn’t think.  All he knew was that he had to get to Ian.  Everything went by in a blur as he ran to find the right bike.  The one he had been working on earlier when his life was only partially holding together.  Now it was all falling apart with each second he spent trying to get to the goddamn hospital. He jumped on the bike, cranked it up, and sped off down the road.  Cars, buses, buildings, traffic lights, crosswalks. They  were all just shapes to him now, just barrier after barrier keeping him from getting where he needed to go. 

Ian. _Shot_. Ian. _Shot_.  Those words just kept repeating in his mind over and over.  The tears flowed freely now and his heart hammered in his chest, his breath coming in short gasps as the wind blew fiercely over his tear stained face.  What the fuck happened?  They didn’t know anything yet.  Goddammit.  That was the worst part, the not knowing shit.  Where was he shot? How many times? Was he paralyzed? Jesus Christ, was he already dead and they just didn’t want to fucking tell them until they got there?  Mickey’s foot stomped the gas even harder as he bobbed and weaved through the onslaught of traffic. He ran every red light he came to, and he dared a fucking cop to try to pull him over.  The cop was gonna just have to follow him to the hospital and he could arrest him, do whatever the fuck he wanted to do, as soon as he found out about Ian. 

Lip had told him he was at Cook County General Hospital.  They said he was in surgery. What if they were lying? What if he had died on the table?   _Oh God, please. Don’t let him fucking die._ Mickey just kept thinking those words over and over in his head.   _Don’t let him fucking die.  Don’t let him fucking die._

In what seemed like hours when in actuality was only about 7 minutes, Mickey pulled up to the front curb of the hospital entrance.  He left the bike there and ran inside.  They could steal the bike, tow it, he didn’t give a fuck right now. He ran up to the information desk and asked for surgery. 

“Yes, sir, fourth floor.  Take the elevator up, and when you get off, go to……….”

Mickey was already halfway down the hallway headed toward the elevators, not waiting for the receptionist’s detailed directions.  He could find the right place on his fucking own.  Dammit, he hated people. When he exited the elevator on the fourth floor he looked to the left and saw the nurses’ station.  _Thank fuck._ He ran up to the desk as a disinterested nurse looked up at him with scorn and derision.  _Don’t fucking try me bitch_ , Mickey thought.

“Ian Gallagher, he’s supposed to be in surgery,” Mickey exclaimed anxiously. The bitchy nurse typed away at her computer.   Mickey had a crazy thought that her fingers would decide his entire future.  Would Mickey Milkovich have a life anymore? She literally held his life in her fucking long ass fingernails that clicked aimlessly on her computer keyboard. Mickey wrung his hands as he waited impatiently for her to answer him.

“Mr. ………….”, she looked up at him expectantly.

“Milkovich.”

“Are you a family member?”

“I’m his boyfriend.”

“I’m sorry, Mr. Milkovich, but only immediate family members can receive medical information about Mr. Gallagher. Is his family on the way?”

“I’M his fucking family! His partner, lover, family, you know?!” The bitchy nurse just looked at him like he was crazy, no empathy for his situation whatsoever. Before Mickey knew what he was doing since all logic was unequivocally thrown out the window at this point, he picked up the nearest chair and hurled it across the lobby area.  He swiped his arms across the nurses’ desk, scattering books, binders, and papers as he went. Somewhere in the background he heard one of the nurses call for security.  So fucking what. He wasn’t going to stop until he got some answers.  Mickey was Ian’s fucking family, no matter whether HIPPO laws or whatever they fuck they were called said so or not.  That’s why they were called that he supposed.  Because they were a big, fat pain in the ass.

How dare somebody say that he and Ian weren’t family.  They shared their lives together, shared their ups and downs, and everything in between.  The only thing they didn’t have was a piece of paper making it official.  Would they have told him anything if they were husbands? Was that even considered legally binding? Well, it fucking should be.  If Ian made it through this, Mickey would make sure that they took care of that. This shit wouldn’t ever fucking happen ever again.

Just as Mickey was about to grab an IV stand that was in his path and toss it out the window, he was attacked from behind by two security guards and forced down to the ground with his hands behind his back.

“Get the fuck off me, you pigs! He’s my fucking family! I have every right to be here, to know what the fuck’s going on!”

“Calm down, Mr. Milkovich, or we’ll be forced to medically restrain you, “one of the guards warned.

“I don’t give a flying fuck! Tell me what’s going on! Ian! Ian! IAN!!!!!!!”

Mickey fought his hand cuff restraints with all his might, kicking his legs about and screaming at the top of his lungs, Ian’s name over and over again, louder and louder, crying out and moaning as if in pain.  And he was- physically, mentally, and emotionally. Every kind of pain that could be felt, he felt it at that moment.  He then watched in horror as a nurse came over with a syringe and quickly jabbed him in the hip with it. “NO! NO!” Mickey screamed.  But a few seconds later, he was out.

_____________________________________________________________________________

Mickey’s head was throbbing.  He tried to move his legs and noticed a sharp pain in his hip.  _What the fuck?_   Bright light filtered through a window and shone right in his eyes, making him use his hand to guard against it.  Since when was there a window in front of the bed? Mickey turned his head to see stark white walls and a dry erase board hung on one of them.  Ok, now this was really creeping him the fuck out.  He was in a bed, but it wasn’t their bed.  Their bed. Their bed.  Wait, Ian.  Realization finally set in his drug-fogged mind as he sat up quickly and realized where he was. “Ian! Ian!” He ran toward the door of the hospital room and swung it open, all the while screaming Ian’s name.  He came out into the lobby area, face to face with the nurses at the desk.  Now it was all coming back to him. Shit.

One of the nurses, noticing him immediately, ran animatedly around the desk to meet him before he could go any further. “Mr.  Milkovich, the Gallagher family is all in the waiting room.” She pointed at the door next to them that said WAITING ROOM across the front of it. Mickey nodded to the nurse, whose look of relief would have been almost comical in another situation, but not today.

Mickey rushed into the room to have five pairs of Gallagher eyes look up anxiously at him.  Then four sets of shoulders slumped when they realized it wasn’t the doctor. Frank, Ian’s worthless piece of shit father, was there too but looked like he would rather be anywhere else. Lip motioned for Mickey to come sit beside him.  Fiona was on his other side.

“Have you heard anything?” Mickey began as he chewed on the end of his thumb nervously.

“The doctors are still operating on him,” Lip answered.  “They said he was in critical condition when we first got here, but they haven’t given us an update yet.”  Lip’s knee was bouncing up and down while Fiona, looking down at the floor, kept rubbing her hands together as her elbows rested on her knees. All of their nervous ticks were understandably out in full force today.

“Shit.” Mickey looked around uncertainly.  “How long was I out?”

“About two hours, give or take.”

“And he’s still in surgery?” Lip just shook his head.

They all sat there, quietly pensive, silently praying for Ian to be okay.  All except for probably Frank, but Mickey couldn’t worry about him right now.  He had much more important things to worry about. Ian was still in surgery.  Maybe that’s a good sign.  No, the longer you were in surgery the worse it was wasn’t it? Well, at least he was still alive.  Oh, God.  He had the thought again that maybe he had died on the table and they were trying to figure out a way to come and break the news to them.  Tears threatened to fall again for what seemed like the millionth time today. 

Mickey couldn’t stand it anymore so he jumped up and started nervously pacing around the room.  He cursed when he saw the no smoking sign on the wall as he made his way around the small waiting room.  Why in the fuck couldn’t you smoke in here? Who the hell were you hurting? All the sick people were out there.  Well, if they expected him to go outside and smoke, they had another thing coming.  No way was he leaving and risk missing any news about Ian.  Fuck that.  He reached in his pocket, pulled a cigarette out of the pack along with his lighter, and lit it up. 

“You know, you’re not supposed to smoke in here.” Frank fucking Gallagher.  The last motherfucker who should be telling him what to do was that piece of shit.  Especially right now.  And especially considering the plethora of drugs he probably had coursing through his veins at this very moment.

Mickey scowled at the eldest Gallagher, pointing his cigarette-clad fingers in his direction from across the room. “You’ve picked the wrong fucking day to mess with me, Frank.  Shut the fuck up before I come over there and knock that dog off your head.”

“I’m just saying……..”

That was it.  Mickey had had enough.  He was headed toward Frank, ready to throw down.  Frank had stood up and was shuffling his feet nervously as the angry man headed toward him. Mickey was definitely in the mood to kick some ass and he couldn’t think of anybody better to tie up with than Frank.  Mickey interrupted whatever he had been trying to say. “Shut the fuck up, Frank! I swear to God if you……….”

But before he could continue with his verbal and physical assault, the door to the waiting room slowly opened and six pairs of eyes looked up expectantly. It was a doctor dressed in blue scrubs and a white lab coat.

“The Gallagher family?”

Mickey ran to the doctor, Frank’s worthless ass totally forgotten. “Doc, I’m Mickey, Ian’s partner.  This is his family.”  Mickey shook the doctor’s hand then pointed toward the group that had gathered beside him. They waited with baited breath for the doctor to begin.

“Why don’t we all sit down?” The frustrated group made their way back to their original seats, anxiously awaiting what the doctor had to say. Finally, he began. “I’m Dr. Wesley, the attending surgeon who operated on Mr. Gallagher. Mr. Gallagher came in with a gunshot wound to the back.  He had lost a lot of blood when he came in but after several blood transfusions we were able to go in and do exploratory surgery to assess the extent of his injuries.  We had to remove his spleen, but he can live without that.  There was no exit wound for the bullet, so we had to go in and remove it.  From what we can tell, the bullet narrowly missed his spine, but there could still be some spinal nerve damage so we are going to have to wait and see what the extent of that is.  The good news is that the bullet completely missed his heart.  But two inches to the right, and it would have been a completely different outcome.”  The doctor wiped at his brow as he continued. “Our main concern right now is his head.  He suffered extensive blunt force trauma injuries.  He has a major concussion and he is bleeding in his brain, so in order to try to contain the swelling from that, we had to put him into an induced coma.  The next few hours are going to be critical as we see how he responds to that.  I will make sure you are updated with any new information.”

“Thank you, doctor,” they all mindlessly muttered, too busy trying to process all the information the doctor just gave them.  The doctor stood up to leave but as he opened the door he turned back around.  “The police will be in to speak with you soon about the investigation. “

“Ok, thanks, doc,” Mickey replied.  “Hey, doc?”  The doctor turned back to face Mickey.  “Ian is bipolar.  I have a list of the meds he takes.”  The doctor smiled at Mickey’s concern.  “We got his medical records, Mr. Milkovich.  But thank you.”

Mickey nodded as the doctor turned to leave.  “Oh, hey, doc?” The doctor turned back around again. “Can we see him?”

“Not yet.  I will let you know when he is able to have visitors.”

Dammit.  “Ok, thanks, doc.”  The doctor nodded and left the waiting room. Mickey then realized he had forgotten all about finding out why all this had happened.  He had been so worried about _what_ had happened to Ian, he didn’t even go to the _why_. “Does anybody know what the fuck happened?”

“We know just as much as you do, Mickey,” Fiona answered sarcastically. Mickey rolled his eyes.  He was just asking a fucking question.  God, Mickey hoped this was a fucking nightmare and he was going to wake up soon.  There was still a possibility that Ian could be paralyzed.  And that wasn’t even the worst part.  Ian could be fucking brain damaged or could still die from the swelling in his brain.  This just all seemed so surreal. 

What the fuck had happened? Was it a patient? A coworker? Mickey knew Ian had been at work so that narrowed it down some. But maybe it happened before he had gone to work.  Was it a store robbery? A case of wrong place, wrong time? Mickey had always told Ian not to go to that damn store down the street from where they lived.  It looked like trouble and there were always cop cars there.

As Mickey was considering all of the various scenarios in his head that could have happened, a Chicago police officer walked in the door. “I’m looking for Mickey Milkovich.”

Well at least the Chicago police department knew who he was if the damn hospital didn’t.  Wait, that may not have been a good thing. He was suddenly scared to answer even though he hadn’t been on the wrong side of the law in a long damn time.  Hesitantly, he spoke up. “I’m Mickey Milkovich.”

“I’m Officer Jackson.” The policeman shook hands with Mickey. “Mr. Gallagher’s coworkers identified you as Ian’s boyfriend.  Is that correct?”

“Yes, that’s correct.  This is his family here.” Mickey pointed at them again as they looked on with anticipation.

“Let’s have a seat so we can discuss the investigation.”

_____________________________________________________________________________

They all sat there in stunned silence.  Mickey couldn’t believe it.  Fucking Roger did this. He had shot Sue, Rosie, and Ian.  Rosie and Sue were going to be okay, thank fuck. But, Ian…….holy fucking shit.  Realization hit Mickey like a punch to the gut.  All of this was his fault.  He started this.  If he hadn’t have punched that asshole at that party, none of this would have happened.  Mickey suddenly felt sick to his stomach, nausea wracking his body as his head swam with dizziness.  “It was me.”

He hadn’t even realized he had said anything out loud until Lip asked, “What did you say?”

Mickey began explaining, having now gotten the attention of everyone around him. “It was me.  I got into a fight with that asshole at Sue’s house during a birthday party when he called us fucking fairies, and that’s why this happened.”  Mickey felt the bile rise up in his throat. 

“This isn’t your fault, Mickey,” Lip reassured. “That asshole was sick.  Thank fuck the police took care of him and filled his ass full of bulletholes.”

Mickey shook his head, still not convinced.  “I shouldn’t have started anything with him.  Why can’t I be more like Ian, more levelheaded?”

Lip giggled lightly. “You wouldn’t be Mickey fucking Milkovich, bad ass South Side thug, then would you?” Lip clapped him on the back affectionately. “Seriously, though, I’m glad he has you.  He needs somebody to look out for him like that.  I know how much you love him.  And I know how fucking much he loves you.  Goddammit, it’s deep.  You are alright in my book, man.”

A small smile tugged at the corner of Mickey’s mouth.  “Shut the fuck up, Gallagher.” They both laughed.  Damn, saying that made him miss Ian even more. Mickey looked over to see Fiona watching them, a scowl on her face.  Mickey knew that part of it was from worrying about Ian, but a big part of it was her stuck up attitude toward Mickey.  She always acted like the Gallaghers were better than the Milkoviches.  They were closer as a family, but they were still South Side, just like them.  They were no better, no worse.  She also still held a grudge against him for the way he handled the whole situation with Ian’s bipolar diagnosis.  He didn’t give a shit what she thought about that.  He handled it the best way he knew how at the time, and the way he figured it, she knew where they lived.  It wasn’t like they locked her out of the goddamn house.  She could have come over any time she wanted to.  That had yet to happen though.

Mickey was going to handle shit now just like he did then.  She had better watch herself if she thought she was going to take charge now.  Mickey and Ian were family, had built a life together. She had better respect that or he was going to tell her exactly what he fucking thought. But as long as she did that, they wouldn’t have any problems.

______________________________________________________________________

It had now been hours and still no change.  Or Mickey assumed there hadn’t been because he hadn’t heard anything.  The Gallaghers had gone home for a few hours to let the kids get some rest but Mickey had promised he’d call if there was any news.  He had called Svetlana to let her know what was going on and had promised to update her as well.  Mickey was in the waiting room of the intensive care unit.  He had never been in an ICU before, never had to visit anybody there.  It was fucking scary.  He thought people usually came here to die.  Wasn’t that usually what happened? Not Ian.  Ian was not going to fucking die on him.  He wouldn’t let him.  He needed that redhead too much.  He was Mickey’s soulmate.  He couldn’t face this life without him, there was just no way. 

Mickey sat for a while in one of the God awful uncomfortable chairs and tried to watch some mindless program on the television, but not even paying any attention to what it was.  He stood up for a while and paced, smoked a cigarette every now and then to take the edge off.  Why wouldn’t they fucking come tell him anything? Something.  Anything.  He was going crazy out of his mind with worry.  He just wanted to see him, to touch him, to lay his eyes on that beautiful face.  He would give anything to hear one of Ian’s corny ass jokes right now.  He tried remembering one of them now, and was coming up empty.  Why could he not remember? Shit.  It must be fatigue.  He had been up by now for about 18 hours.  He didn’t care how long it took, he wasn’t fucking going anywhere.  Not until he heard something.  And most likely not even then.  He just couldn’t leave his Ian. 

Mickey sat down again in one of the chairs and turned his body so he could lay his legs across the chair beside him and maybe take a short nap.  He made sure the nurses’ station had his contact information and told them in a none too pleasant way to make sure to call him or come get him if anything changed.  Mickey’s reputation that day had preceded him, so they had been very amenable.  They all knew who Mickey fucking Milkovich was now.  Mickey’s eyelids finally couldn’t stay open any longer, and he dozed off to sleep dreaming of flame red hair and sparkling green eyes.

_______________________________________________________________________________

“Ian! Turn your fucking phone off! I hate that antiquated ring tone!,” Mickey yelled.  Ian didn’t listen to him and the fucking ringing continued.  Mickey was going to kick his ass for waking him up at this ungodly hour.  He rubbed his sleepy eyes and raised his head.  Ow, his fucking neck was killing him.  Wait, the ringing was still going.  He opened his eyes and saw a row of chairs in front of him.  Shit! Mickey finally realized he  was in the hospital and that was the fucking ICU waiting room phone ringing. He jumped up quickly to answer it, scaring the few other sleeping people awake, but not giving a fuck.  He grabbed the receiver, almost pulling the phone out of the wall in the process. “Hello? Hello?”

“Mr. Milkovich?”  It was Dr. Wesley.

“Y…yes.  That’s me.”

“Visiting hours are about to begin and Mr. Gallagher has been cleared for visitation.”

“Thank Jesus Fucking Christ,” Mickey muttered.

“Sir?”

“I’m sorry, go ahead.”

“Mr. Gallagher has shown some signs of improvement.  He’s still not out of the woods yet, but he has responded well to treatment.  We still don’t know about the spinal nerve damage yet.  Our main priority first was his head trauma.  The swelling has finally started to decrease some.  He still has some way to go and be advised, he is still in a coma.  We will do some tests to determine his spinal injuries.  A little warning before you go in.  You still with me, Mr. Milkovich?”

“Yeah, I’m here,” Mickey replied, trying to process everything the doctor had said.

“Mr. Gallagher will have multiple machines hooked up to him, and several tubes running from his body.  We are still assisting his breathing since he is still in the coma.  If his swelling continues to decrease, when it is safe to do so, we will bring him out of the coma and take him off the breathing machine. Do you understand? Do you have any questions for me?”

“How long until we know he is out of the woods?”

“It could still be several hours yet.  Even though he is showing signs of improvement, it is still too early to know for sure.”

“Are you ready to see Mr. Gallagher?”

“You bet your ass I am.”

“Come on out to the nurses station and a nurse will give you pre-entry instructions.”

“Thank you, Dr. Wesley.  Thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome, Mr. Milkovich.  I’m glad to see him going in the right direction at least.  I’m about to leave the hospital, but I will be on call if anything changes.” The doctor paused, then added, “I know it’s not my place to say, Mr. Milkovich, but I sincerely apologize for what happened earlier while Mr. Gallagher was in surgery.  If that was my boyfriend, I know I would have reacted the exact same way.”

“You…..your boyfriend?” Mickey stammered.

“Yes.  In fact, he is waiting at home for me now, and I can’t wait to get there.  We will talk soon, Mr. Milkovich.”

“Yes, thanks again, doc.”  He hung up the phone and sighed.  _I’ll be goddammed._

__________________________________________________________________________

After Mickey had finally gotten through with the last of all necessary phone calls, he had finally done the pre-entry requirements.   His hands were washed, his gown and cap were on, and he was ready to see his man.  Even though the doctor had warned him on the phone, nothing could have prepared him for what he saw when he entered his hospital room.  He stepped lightly to the side of the bed, as if he was afraid to wake him or something.  A nurse brought him a chair to sit in beside the bed.  There were so many tubes, so many different noises.  _Beep, whoosh, beep, whoosh._ Hey, but he figured, as long as those noises were in the room, Ian was still alive, so he welcomed them.

There was a tube running from his mouth to a loud machine.  That must be the machine that was breathing for him.  There was tape all over his mouth holding the tube in place. There were IVs in his hand and bandages on his chest. There were bruises, cuts, and scars on his face that still had yet to heal.  Mickey clenched his fists as he thought about that motherfucking Roger.  The cops better be glad they had  gotten to him before Mickey had because if he had been the one to do it,  he would have made sure that son of a bitch suffered greatly first, then he would’ve killed him.

Ian’s beautiful red hair was matted to his head and in disarray thanks to the heavy bandage there.  Boy, Ian would be pissed about that.  He didn’t leave the house without every strand of hair perfectly in place. Mickey smiled at that thought.  

Mickey only had 30 minutes with Ian, which wasn’t nearly long enough, but he would take whatever he could get. He grabbed Ian’s hand that didn’t have the IV in it, and laced his fingers with his.  His hand was ice cold. He let go long enough to pull the cover up over his chest more, tucking it in to his sides to try and warm him up. He then grabbed his hand again gingerly and put his other hand on top of Ian’s, rubbing in circles over it to try and get the blood flowing better.   He put his head on Ian’s chest carefully and heard that big, beautiful heart beating steadily.  Hearing this one sign of unassisted life that no machine was helping to keep working was what finally did Mickey in, the hopelessness and crippling fear the day had brought finally escaping him through heart-wrenching sobs, his breath hitching and a lump forming in his throat as he let it all go, finally.  He laid there and just cried and cried and cried, until a nurse finally came and got him.

___________________________________________________________________________

The day Mickey had been waiting for was finally here.  It had been one week since he was first able to visit Ian.  One week of small interval visits, family members coming and going, Lip trying to get Mickey to go home to at least take a shower and get some real food. He finally relented on the fifth day when he couldn’t stand the smell of himself anymore.  He got Lip to stay at the hospital in his place, but demanded that he get hourly updates until he was able to make it back. Mickey had been glad to have that little bit of time because besides the shower and food, he had been able to handle household stuff that had been abandoned since Ian had been in the hospital.  But a few hours later, he was back, taking back over his post.

Today, fucking finally, Dr. Wesley was taking Ian out of his coma.  He had steadily improved each day and was, according to the doctor, “progressing nicely.”  Mickey was so excited he couldn’t even see straight.  He could not wait to look into those sparking green eyes he had missed so much.  He could not wait to talk to him, hear his voice again. 

They had moved Ian to a private room since he was no longer critical.  Damn, Mickey still couldn’t believe it.  Well, actually, he could.  He knew better than anybody how strong Ian was.  He knew Ian wasn’t going to give up without a fight. God, he loved that man.

Mickey had gone home the night before to get a good night’s rest so he would be somewhat refreshed for when he went to see Ian, knowing that this time, it mattered.  He was getting dressed, wearing a nice long sleeve button up shirt and his best jeans.  He took great pains to fix his hair just right and wear his best smelling cologne.  You would think he was going on a first date or something.  That thought was ludicrous because there would never be anyone else for him but Ian.

Several minutes later, Mickey was out the door and headed to the hospital, a bounce in his step that hadn’t been there since one week ago when this whole nightmare started.  He was going to see his man today, and nothing was going to keep him down.  Svetlana was even bringing Yev up there, so this day was doubly special.  He had missed his little man too, so much.  His world was on an uphill swing today.  Even Mother Nature must have sensed his mood because she had her biggest brightest sun out today in an even brighter, blue sky. 

After making one quick stop on the way to the hospital, Mickey strode in, head held high as he spoke to the receptionist.  When he made it to Ian’s floor, all the nurses greeted him, now very familiar with the “hottie with the knuckle tattoos” as he heard them call him, even though they knew they were barking up the wrongest fucking tree in the world.

Mickey entered Ian’s room, the Gallaghers already there.  They were standing around Ian’s bed, but parted when Mickey walked in, allowing him to sit in the seat beside Ian’s bed. A few minutes later, Dr. Wesley walked in.  “Good morning, everyone.”

Dr. Wesley explained what he was going to do, what the whole process entailed.  After Ian was brought out of the coma and his vitals were checked, they would remove the breathing tube from him.  He wouldn’t be able to talk much or very loud and would probably be disoriented at first.  Mickey was growing impatient the more Dr. Wesley talked.  He knew he was just being thorough but come the fuck on already.

The whole process took about an hour, Mickey practically counting down the minutes in his mind.  The nurse came in periodically to monitor him.  He wasn’t awake yet, but Dr. Wesley had said it might take a while.  Mickey was sitting by his bedside, staring at his pale face when suddenly, he began wincing and lightly moaning.  Everyone in the room started scrambling for the nurse, but Mickey just sat there, not wanting to miss the moment those eyes met his again.  Ian squeezed Mickey’s hand and it was the best feeling in the world to him at that moment.  He was still moaning when the nurse came in to check him.  “Mickey, talk to him, see if he responds.”

Mickey didn’t hesitate.  “Ian, baby? Can you wake up? Can you look at me? Ian? Can you squeeze my hand?” Ian squeezed his hand again and the room erupted in elated gasps.  “Ian? Wake up, baby. Everybody’s here to see you.” Just then Svetlana and Yev walked in, and Mickey beamed at his son. “Yev is here too.  Yevvy wants to see you.”

Mickey held his breath as he and the rest of the room waited.  And waited.  Another moan.  Another hand squeeze. The nurse went to get Dr. Wesley as they continued to wait.  Then suddenly Ian’s eyes fluttered open and began immediately darting around the room, his head staying still as he was seemingly trying to figure out where he was.  Then he saw him.  Those green eyes that looked at him like no other eyes ever did locked with his.  He didn’t say anything, just stared at Mickey, but he didn’t have to.  That was enough for Mickey.

The doctor came in then and checked Ian out.  He was very pleased with Ian’s responses during his various tests.  Mickey had never been so proud.  Yev came over to sit in Mickey’s lap.  He touched Ian’s hand that held Mickey’s.  “Is Ian going to be okay?”

“Yeah, buddy.  Ian’s gonna be fine.”

“Good, cause I love him.” 

Mickey couldn’t hold back the tears that pooled in his eyes.  “He loves you too, little man.  Very much.” Yev wrapped his little arms around his dad’s neck and squeezed.  “Don’t cry, dad.” 

The tears were now falling freely down his cheeks.  Right here in front of literally everybody, but Mickey really didn’t give a shit.  “They are happy tears, Yevvy.  Very happy tears.”

“I love you, dad.”

“I love you too, son.”  Yev then crawled off Mickey’s lap and made his way back to his mom. 

Mickey turned his attention back to Ian who was now looking around the room at everyone gathered there.  He raised his hand weakly to wave at everybody.  Then Fiona spoke up.  “Come on guys, let’s give them a minute.”  Fiona and Mickey exchanged a look of understanding and he nodded his appreciation at her.  She might not be so bad after all. 

When everyone had finally left, including the doctors and nurses, Mickey finally let out a deep breath, a peaceful calm coming over him that hadn’t been there in what seemed like forever, ever since he almost lost this man lying before him.  Mickey began lightly stroking Ian’s arm with one hand, while his other hand was still grasped in Ian’s. “How are you feeling?”

“Ok,” Ian answered weakly.

“You don’t have to talk, baby.”

Ian squeezed his hand, letting him know to shut the fuck up.  They were so finely tuned to each other that they could communicate without saying a word. “Mick?”

Oh, God, how good it felt to hear his name on those lips.  “Yeah?”

“Where are Sue and Rosie?”

“They are totally fine.  Rosie went home from the hospital after a couple days.  She’s sore but otherwise okay.  Sue had to stay here a few more days to recover, but she’s at home, doing better every day.  Mickey had made a point to check on them every day.  Hell, he was already here anyway.  And he called and checked on them every day after they went home. Sue was going to have to complete some physical therapy before she went back to work, but all in all she was very lucky.  And she was beginning to see a therapist to deal with the trauma she experienced. 

As if reading Mickey’s thoughts, which they also did a lot, Ian then asked, “And Roger?”

“Dead as a fucking doornail.  You saved your friends’ lives, Ian.  You did that.  And because of you, Roger isn’t going to fucking hurt anybody ever again.  I am so fucking proud of you,” Mickey beamed. 

“I wished I would’ve killed that fucker myself.”

“You did everything you could do.  You are a hero, Ian.”

Ian turned his head slowly, as it was still painful to move, and smiled at Mickey.  The man was goddamn beautiful even when he came out of a coma.  How in the hell did he do that? “You’re such a fucking sap, you know that?”

“Yeah, so I’ve heard,” Mickey winked. They both laughed and Ian winced in pain.  “Goddamn it, Ian, be careful!”

“Oh, shut up, bitch.”  Ian continued laughing and clutched at his side when the pain shot through. That damn laugh.  It gave Mickey life.  Ian had his life back.  They could now go on living their lives.  Together. “Hey, Mick?”

“Yeah, babe?”

“I love you.”

Mickey’s breath caught in his throat.  Those three words.  Three little words that a week ago he didn’t know if he would ever hear again.  With everything he had and with every ounce of love he could muster, he answered Ian back. “I love you too.”

 


	3. The Dirty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Self explanatory:)

Mickey had just come back from the cafeteria and was about to enter Ian’s hospital room when he heard the redhead yelling.  “I don’t care what the fucking doctor said, you aren’t taking any more of my blood! What are you, fucking vampires?” Mickey hesitantly opened the door to save the poor, unwitting nurse from his boyfriend’s wrath. “And you,” Ian pointed at Mickey, “where the hell have you been?”  Apparently no one was safe.

            “Baby, you were asleep, so I just went to grab me something to eat real quick, okay?” Mickey said, trying to placate him. 

            “Oh yeah?  Well Nurse Ratched over here woke my ass up to take more blood!”  Ian seethed and fixed his eyes on her.  Mickey just shook his head as he watched the nurse’s retreating figure scurry out the door.

            Mickey turned his attention back to the patient.  “Well, somebody woke up on the wrong side of the hospital bed this morning.”

            Ian scoffed. “Don’t start with me, Mick.  I’m tired because they won’t let me fucking sleep in here, I’m hurting, and I’m ready to go the fuck home.”

            Mickey smiled sympathetically and put his hand on top of Ian’s.  “I know, babe.  But you’ve got to stay in here a little longer until the doctor clears you for release.”

            “I’ve been in here fucking two weeks Mick, and a week in a coma before that. I’m sick of this fucking place!”

            Mickey knew the feeling.  He was sick of this fucking place too, but he would never tell Ian that.  Plus, he trusted Dr. Wesley’s judgment and if he felt like Ian still needed to be here, then that’s the way it was going to be.  Ian had improved a lot over the last few weeks, but he still had a long way to go.  He ended up having some spinal nerve damage that affected his left arm, causing numbness in his shoulder and down his arm to his hand. He was doing physical therapy exercises with a therapist three times a week here in the hospital, but it doesn’t seem to have gotten any better yet.  Dr. Wesley assured them that he would improve with time and that the numbness was just temporary, but Mickey was still worried.

            His gunshot wound was slowly healing, and the swelling was completely gone from his brain, so all in all Ian was damn lucky.  Mickey was so relieved that Ian was getting better, he didn’t know what to do with himself.  Ian was thankful that he was going to be alright too, but he was starting to get a wicked case of cabin fever.  He was irritable and bitchy, but Mickey loved every goddamn second of it.  Being in the position of not knowing if he would ever see Ian again, ever hear his voice, or hold his hand made Mickey appreciate his man more than he ever did before.  Almost losing someone you love more than life itself changes you, and makes you never want to take them for granted again.  And Mickey wouldn’t.  Mickey was going to make damn sure that Ian knew just how much he was loved every day for the rest of their lives.

            “Do you need anything, babe?” Mickey asked.

            “No, I’m good.” Ian looked worried, his eyebrows pulled together and a frown on his face. 

            “What is it?” 

            Ian hesitated, like he was unsure how to begin.  He slowly tried to turn his body toward Mickey, wincing in pain in the process.

            “What the hell are you doing, Ian? You’re going to hurt yourself!”

            “I want to look in your eyes when I say this.”  What the hell was he about to say? Mickey was really worried now.  Did he do or say something wrong? Mickey waited, holding his breath, not sure he wanted to hear what Ian was going to say. Finally, Ian spoke up. “I’m sorry.”

            Mickey was confused.  “Sorry for what?”

            “For the fight we had, that night of the party, everything I…………”

            Mickey stood up and loomed over Ian, forcing him to lie back down in the bed on his back, Mickey holding him so he wouldn’t do it too quickly and hurt himself. “Look at me, Ian.”  Ian looked up into Mickey’s blue eyes.  “Stop, okay? It’s forgotten.  We don’t ever need to talk about that night ever again. “Their faces were so close together, they could feel each other’s breath blowing lightly over their skin.  “I love you with all my heart and nothing will ever change that.  Do you hear me?”

            Instead of answering, Ian reached up and touched his lips to Mickey’s kissing him softly while his right hand caressed his cheek.   Finally, he pulled away from the kiss, making Mickey moan from the loss. “I love you too, Mick.”

            As soon as they separated and Mickey sat down in his chair next to the bed, there was a knock at the door. “Come in,” Ian called.  The door opened slowly, and then they could see who their newest visitor was.  It was Sue. They both raised up slightly, surprise and shock registering on their faces.

            “Sue,” Ian stated, like he couldn’t believe it was her.

            Mickey stood up and walked toward the door.  “I’ll give you guys a minute.”

            “Ok, thanks babe,” Ian said, not taking his eyes off Sue. “Come on in, sit down.” He directed her toward Mickey’s chair.  Ian watched as Sue quietly made her way to the chair, looking around the room nervously, clearly not sure how to start. “You look good.”

            “Thanks, you do too.” Ian could already tell there were tears making her eyes shiny that she was trying not to let show.  “I’m sorry it took me so long to come visit.  I’ve just now started to feel like myself again with the physical therapy and everything. How are you feeling?”

            “I’m doing good all things considered.  I just have some numbness in my left arm and my back still hurts like a son of a bitch, but other than that, I’m great.”  Ian smiled over at Sue until he noticed her head was down, and her tears were falling on her jean clad legs.  

            “Sue?”

            She choked back a sob.  “Ian, I’m so so sorry.  I shouldn’t have gotten angry at you for that prick.  The way I acted toward you, I will never be able to forgive myself for that.  And I will never be able to repay you for what you did.  You saved my life, Ian.  And I am eternally grateful.”  She was gasping now, hard, gut wrenching sobs that just tore Ian up inside.

            “Sue you don’t owe me anything.  You would’ve done the same thing for me.  We are a team and we look out for each other.  I love you like you were my own sister.”  Ian paused as he considered his next statement, the inevitable elephant in the room. “I’m sorry about Roger.”

            Sue laughed through her tears and wiped at her nose.  Ian handed her a tissue. “Don’t be.  Hell, I’m not. I can’t believe I married a guy like that.  He was so sweet when we first met, you know? But as soon as the wedding was over, it’s like his mask came off and the true Roger was revealed. I can’t believe I put up with that shit.  And I defended him!” She blew her nose as she continued. “I thought I would mourn a little at least, you know? But as soon as I found out the cops had killed him, I was actually fucking relieved.  I didn’t even realize how abusive he was until I was finally out of that situation looking in.  I felt so ashamed and embarrassed. “Ian continued to listen intently to his friend as she confided in him. “Embarrassed that I let it happen to me.  You know, me and you, we see these cases all the time, and I thought, ‘what dumb woman would put up with that bullshit?’ And what do you know, I turned out to be one of the dumb women.”

            “You are not dumb, Sue.  Don’t say that. He was the dumb one.  You were in love, trusting, and compassionate to his sorry ass.  But don’t ever let me hear you call yourself dumb again.”

            Sue just shook her head, unconvinced.  “So, was that money well spent on my fucking therapy, or what?” They both laughed heartily and Ian was so happy to see her smiling.  She was too special not to always be smiling.  He was starting to see some of the old Sue fire in her again and it was beautiful.  She stood up and came over and carefully gave him a hug.  They stayed like that for a while, both thankful that some emotional scars were healed that day, even if the physical ones still needed some time.

______________________________________________________________________________________

            Mickey was sitting in his chair beside Ian, holding his hand while they watched some TV, when Dr. Wesley came in.  “Hey, doc,” Mickey greeted.  “I’ll leave you two alone.” Mickey knew the routine by now.  Dr. Wesley came in every day to check on ian and examine him, so Mickey always stepped out while he did.

            “No, no.  You can stay, Mickey.”  They both looked at each other with perplexed looks on their faces.  Mickey’s nerves started to prickle, suddenly nervous about the doctor’s change in routine.  Was there something wrong that he needed to talk to both of them about? Did they find something on one of Ian’s tests? All manner of situations ran through Mickey’s head like a hamster wheel out of control.  He sat back down in the chair, not able to stand on his wobbly legs anymore.  He grabbed Ian’s hand tightly as they waited for Dr. Wesley to explain.

            “Ian, we are very pleased with your progress and we feel like with regular physical therapy and just time to heal your back wound, you are good to go.  So the question is, are you ready to go home?”

            Mickey jumped up from his chair, still holding Ian’s hand as they both yelled simultaneously.  “Fuck yes!”

Dr. Wesley chuckled.  “Ok then, I will get the nurse to get your discharge papers in order and we will get you outta here.” He patted Ian’s leg as he turned toward the door.

“Hey, doc?” Mickey caught the doctor before he left the room.

“Yes, Mickey?”

He walked up to the doctor and extended his hand.  “I just want to say how much I appreciate everything you’ve done for Ian.  That’s my sweetheart there.” Mickey pointed at Ian.  “And you brought him home to me and I will never be able to thank you enough.”  Mickey was tearing up now, looking into the eyes of the man who had saved Ian’s life.

“It was my pleasure.  Mickey, Ian, I hope you both have a wonderful life together. I wish you all the happiness in the world.” And with that, Dr. Wesley was gone.

Mickey clapped his hands as he looked at Ian’s beaming face.  Fucking finally, he was taking his man home.

___________________________________________________________________________________

            “Wait! Wait! Wait!” Mickey bellowed as he ran around to the passenger side of the car.  After what seemed like hours to get Ian discharged and released, they were finally outside their shitty ass apartment, and neither one of them could be happier. “Let me help you inside, babe.”

            Ian scoffed. “Mick, it’s my arm and my back.  There’s nothing wrong with my legs,” he said sarcastically as Mickey helped him get out of the car

            Ian didn’t know it yet, but he was probably going to get sick of Mickey in the next coming weeks.  He had been ordered by Dr. Wesley to stay off work for the next four weeks, and Mickey planned on waiting on him hand and foot, not letting him out of his sight.  He was so damn happy to have Ian safe and sound and home where he belonged that he was scared that if he looked away from him for even one second, he might disappear.  But even as relieved as he was to have Ian back home, he couldn’t let his boyfriend get too comfortable.  “Just shut the fuck up and lean on me, asshole.” So Ian leaned on Mickey, if for nothing else but to humor him since he was just trying to help.  When they crossed the threshold of their home, Ian couldn’t help but smile widely when Mickey turned to him with a smile of his own and said, “Welcome home, Ian.”

And that’s how it was for the next couple weeks.  Ian was either laid up on the couch or in the bed, and Mickey would give him his meds, bring him his food, do his laundry, cook, and clean. Pretty much anything Ian needed, Mickey did it.  Ian felt so bad about everything Mickey was doing but anytime he tried to help, Mickey just called him a ‘motherfucker’ and ordered him to lie back down. It was good to be home.

            In that couple weeks, as Ian’s body began to gain its strength back with his regular physical therapy exercises the doctor gave him and regular wound cleanings for his back, which was just about completely healed, he came to a realization about something.  He and Mickey hadn’t had sex in over a fucking month.  Ian’s body reminded him of that fact every time Mickey came around.  Ian knew Mickey well enough to know that with as protective as Mickey had been being, trying to get sex out of him was going to be a hard sell.  And he was right.  No matter what advances Ian made, Mickey shot him down each time.

            Mickey would bring Ian his meds and lean over the bed to hand them to him along with his water, and Ian would try to reach up and kiss him, but Mickey would retreat out of his reach and scold him lightly.  When Mickey would bring him his food, he would try to grab Mickey’s hips and tug him to him, again with no luck. 

One day, Mickey insisted on helping Ian with his shower still, like he’d been doing, even though he was more than physically capable of doing it alone.  But he allowed it, considering this his last ditch effort to get into Mickey’s pants.  Mickey loved shower sex.  This would get him for sure.  Ian was so horny and aching for his boyfriend so bad that he didn’t know how much longer he could hold out. But as Mickey was helping Ian bathe and he started kissing on Mickey’s shoulder and grabbed his dick, Mickey jumped back as if Ian had bit him or something.  “What the fuck are you doing, Ian?”

“Trying to fuck my boyfriend, if you don’t mind!” Ian yelled as the spray of hot water hit his back.

“No, Ian,” Mickey said, rubbing up and down Ian’s arms, trying to lessen the sting of his rejection. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“Ok, that’s it!” Ian exclaimed.  He stepped angrily out of the shower leaving a shocked Mickey behind.  He yanked his towel off the towel rack, wrapped it around his waist and stormed toward the living room.

“Where the fuck are you going?” Mickey called as he grabbed his towel too and followed Ian into the living room.  When he got there, Ian was sitting on the couch with his cell phone in his hand.  “Who the fuck are you calling?”

“You’re not the only one with Dr. Wesley’s cell phone number, dammit,” Ian mumbled as he dialed. “We’re gonna settle this right here and now.”  Ian pressed the button for the speakerphone as the doctor’s number started to ring.

What the actual fuck? Ian was being a little whiny bitch all of a sudden.  All Mickey was trying to do was protect him.  He didn’t want to do anything to risk injuring Ian since he wasn’t one hundred percent healed yet, and the way they fucked, he was bound to get hurt.  Mickey should be given a medal for the restraint he had shown over the last couple weeks.  He didn’t let on to Ian, but every time he had tried to get Mickey into bed, it took every ounce of willpower Mickey had not to attack that redhead and fuck his brains out.  It had been way too long since they had fucked and Ian wasn’t making it any easier to resist.  He was making it fucking hard. Literally.  Mickey was sick of jacking off in the shower, alone.  He wanted Ian.  He wanted him bad.  He was trying to be patient, but his patience was deteriorating quickly, no thanks in part to the horny man sitting beside him.  And why the hell was he calling Dr. Wesley? What the fuck was he going to say to him? As Mickey wondered, a voice came on the line.

“This is Dr. Wesley.”

“Hi, Dr. Wesley, this is Ian Gallagher. I hope I didn’t catch you at a bad time.”  Ian locked eyes with Mickey as he spoke to the doctor on the phone.

“Hello, Ian.  No it’s fine. How are you? Is everything alright?”

“Well not really.  I have a medical issue that I needed to ask your advice about.” Ian smirked at Mickey.  Mickey just rolled his eyes at his boyfriend’s absurdity when he realized the reason for the call.

“Ok, Ian, that’s no problem.  What can I help you with? Is it your arm? Your back? I can refer you to some excellent specialists if you’re still having issues.” Mickey just shook his head, knowing exactly where Ian was going with this.

“I am erotically charged,” Ian said with a straight face.  There was dead silence on the other end of the line.

After a pause, Dr. Wesley finally spoke. “Um……is that what you kids are calling ‘horny’ these days?” the doctor chuckled nervously.

“Yes,” Ian stated matter of factly. “My question to you is, can I fuck my boyfriend? Because my boyfriend seems to think I can’t.”

Another moment of silence on the phone.  “Um…..well, in my expert opinion, if you feel you are physically able and can engage in sex without further injuring yourself, then I say, yes, you can fuck your boyfriend.”

 Ian smiled a shit eating grin at Mickey. “Thank you, Dr. Wesley, for taking the time to answer my question. Have a nice day.”

“You too, Ian.” Dr. Wesley’s tone plainly registered his perplexity at this phone call. 

Ian abruptly ended the call and threw his cell phone down on the coffee table with a loud bang. “There you have it.  A doctor’s expert, professional opinion that it is safe for me to fuck my boyfriend,” Ian challenged as he stared Mickey down, waiting for his response.

“I cannot believe you just fucking did that shit.” Mickey broke away from Ian’s stare and leaned his head back and looked up at the ceiling as he contemplated his next move.  He sighed, his chest rising and falling slowly.  His head came back up and met Ian’s shiny green eyes again.  Ian was now leaning over with his arms crossed over his knees, his hard, defined biceps taunting him, his muscled chest making his mouth water as his eyes now raked up and down his body. Mickey held out as long as he could until finally his patience waned completely.  And after all, it was doctor recommended.  “Fuck it.”

Mickey lunged for Ian, knocking him back against the arm of the couch, their mouths crashing together with such force their teeth were knocking together.  Their tongues circled as they each fought for dominance, not able to get enough of the other’s mouth. “Shit, it’s been too fucking long, Mickey.”

Mickey moaned into Ian’s mouth, not willing to break the contact to answer him, because he agreed.  Ian felt so good under his hands as they explored his chest and then circled around to his back, careful not to touch his wound.  His hands then came up to rake through Ian’s fire red hair and he framed Ian’s face as they continued their searing kiss.  Mickey finally broke the kiss to run his tongue down Ian’s neck, biting and sucking the pale skin there, as Ian moaned in pleasure. “Goddammit, you feel so good, baby,” Mickey growled.

Ian ran his hands up Mickey’s neck, followed by his tongue as he sucked at his Adam’s apple.  He then ran his tongue up his neck further until he reached his earlobe and sucked roughly as Mickey mewled. His arms wrapped around Mickey’s back as his hands ran down, kneading his muscles as they traveled  until they reached his bare ass and squeezed tightly. Mickey gasped, loving the feel of Ian’s huge, strong hands on his ass.  Mickey ran his tongue down Ian’s sternum, lowering himself and forcing Ian’s hands back up to his back, then his neck, then in his brunette hair. Mickey lapped at Ian’s hip bones, nipping and sucking lightly.  He didn’t want to hurt him by any means, but he sure as hell wanted to mark him up with some bruises.

Ian pulled roughly at Mickey’s hair as he teased his hard, leaking cock, licking and sucking everywhere around it.  “Mickey, please baby.  Suck that cock.  I know how much you love it.”

“Goddamn right I do.  You ready for me?” Mickey asked lasciviously as his eyes met Ian’s while he licked up and down Ian’s thighs, running his tongue in circles, and driving Ian crazy with want.

“God, yes.  Please baby.”  Mickey stuck out his tongue and let it circle around the head of Ian’s cock slowly, teasing him mercilessly.  He closed his mouth over the top, sucking all the precome there. Then finally, Mickey took Ian all the way in, swallowing him down until his cock hit the back of Mickey’s throat.  They both moaned at the same time, the vibration sending heat shooting up Ian’s spine. “Fuck, that feels good, baby. Suck it harder.”

Mickey was more than happy to oblige, bobbing up and down at a frenetic pace.  He placed his hand at the base of his cock, rubbing upward while his mouth came down to meet it, establishing a steady up and down rhythm.  Ian’s cock felt so good and heavy in his mouth, weeks of unspilled come ready to be released.  He opened his throat, eager to take him in until his nose reached his red pubic hair.  Once his mouth was full of Ian’s nine inches and he was breathing in the sweet scent of his hair there, he just stayed there and savored the feel of Ian’s big hard cock down his throat.  He instinctively had to swallow, the action massaging Ian’s dick in the process and making him cry out in ecstasy.  “Oh shit! Fuck Mick!”

After staying there for a few seconds, spurred on by ian’s response, he finally moved his mouth up to the head to continue sucking, but Ian raised up suddenly and grabbed Mickey’s shoulders, pushing him down to the other end of the couch.  He reared back and enthusiastically grabbed Mickey’s legs and pushed them both back toward Mickey’s head, practically folding him in half.  He lowered his face to Mickey’s hole, feasting with his tongue, darting in and out of the ring of nerves.  “Fuck, Ian! Goddammit, warn me why don’t you?”

Ian stopped his tongue fucking and raised his head.  “Are you seriously complaining like a little bitch right now?”

“Hell no.  Don’t you fucking stop.”

Ian smirked, “Yeah that’s what I thought.”

“Shut the fuck up and eat my ass.”

And that’s what he did.  He licked up Mickey’s perineum and up and down his hole, all the while Mickey was writhing uncontrollably.  He licked his ass cheeks, and watched as they both turned pink under his touch.  He used his hands to spread his ass cheeks wider to give him even better access.  His tongue came down to his hole again and his lips surrounded it and sucked over and over again until he had the brunette screaming.  “Yes, right there, Ian! Don’t stop.” Mickey’s hand came down on top of Ian’s head and pushed him even further into his ass. “I can’t get enough of that mouth. Jesus fucking Christ, Ian.”

God it felt so good to have Mickey like this.  Ian had missed this so much, just going crazy on each other.  They had a healthy sex life, neither one of them able to go more than a couple days without some kind of contact between them.  Their sexual chemistry was out of this world even after all this time.  That’s why these last few weeks had been especially hard.  That’s the longest either one of them had ever gone without sex since they had met each other.  Well, they were going to make up for lost time tonight. 

Ian’s tongue and lips continued their trek upward from Mickey’s ass to his balls, licking and sucking each one firmly.  Ian’s tongue then ran up the underside of Mickey’s cock, as he lowered his legs on either side of Ian’s hips to give him easier access. Ian’s mouth came around the tip and continued downward until his mouth was full of cock.  His cock was so thick and felt so incredible in his mouth.  He worked his mouth up and down over and over, increasing his pace each time.  “You better stop, or I’m gonna come, Ian.  I don’t want to come.  I ain’t through with you yet.”

Ian popped his mouth off Mickey’s cock.  “Oh yeah? I was hoping you’d say that.”

Mickey smiled mischeviously at Ian.  Ian knew that look and he fucking loved it. He jumped up and ran to the bedroom, Mickey chasing him the whole way, both of them laughing hysterically as they fell on the bed together. Ian felt a pain in his back, but he wasn’t about to say anything to Mickey and ruin the mood. This was too fucking good.

But of course, Mickey didn’t miss a thing when it came to Ian.  “Are you okay?”

“I’m perfect, why?”

“You winced, baby,” Mickey whispered.  He rubbed his hand down Ian’s arm soothingly.

“I’m fine, I promise.  Come here.”  Ian put his hand behind Mickey’s neck and pulled him toward him so their lips met in another hot, fierce kiss, all the worry dissipating from Mickey’s body as he melted into it.  The longer they kissed, the more desperate and needy it became.  They pawed at each other, not able to get close enough.  They wrapped their arms around each other in a vise like grip while they kissed as their bodies pressed together so closely there was no way to know where one ended and the other began.

Mickey broke the contact and raised up with his hands on either side of Ian’s head.  He stared down into Ian’s eyes lovingly.  When he just stayed like that for several moments and didn’t move, concern registered on Ian’s face as his eyebrows furrowed.  “What’s the matter, baby?”

Mickey stared for a few more seconds and finally shook his head.  “Nothing.  I just……” Mickey’s eyes began to shine with unshed tears and his chin began to tremble.  Ian ran his fingers through Mickey’s hair softly as he searched his face, urging him to continue.  “I still can’t believe you’re here.  With me.  I thought we’d never have moments like this again.  I have never been so fucking scared in my entire life. I thought I’d lost you…….” Mickey’s voice broke off as the tears fell and landed on Ian’s chest.  Mickey was overwhelmed with emotion which in turn made Ian tear up. “I love you so fucking much, Ian,” Mickey choked out.

Ian was so moved by Mickey’s words, now letting his tears flow freely as well.  He could literally feel the love Mickey had for him.  It enveloped him like a warm blanket that he never wanted to come out from under.  It broke his heart to see Mickey this distraught over almost losing him, but at the same time it made him feel so cherished. “I love you too, Mickey.  So much.”

 Just like always, Mickey had been his rock through this whole ordeal, taking care of him, and being there for him when he needed him the most.  Ian never saw him shed a tear ever since this nightmare began over a month ago.  Until now.  The dam had finally broken and they cried together.  Ian placed his hands on either side of Mickey’s face, silently pleading with him to look into his eyes. He said through his tears, “I’m here, baby. And I’m not going anywhere, okay? You’re stuck with my stubborn ass.”

Mickey grinned and laughed through his tears.  “You promise?”

Ian nodded his head. “I promise.”

“Ok, good.  Now fuck my brains out,” Mickey demanded.

“Yes, sir” Ian saluted as he leaned over to grab the lube and blindfold from the drawer in the nightstand, tender moment effectively ended.  Mickey got on his knees and laid his head down on the pillow, his ass up in the air for Ian to do with as he wished. Ian reached up toward Mickey’s head and slipped the blindfold on him. Mickey loved when they used the blindfold.  It was hot as fuck, losing one of your senses, making all the others heightened.  Mickey couldn’t fucking wait. The anticipation was killing him. It had been way too long since he had Ian’s big, hard cock in his ass and he was ready for it.  To prove his point further, he shook his ass back and forth, teasing Ian.  Ian took his place behind Mickey, placing his hands on his ass cheeks and rubbing circles,  kneading the soft skin.  “You look so good like this, baby.  You’ve taken care of my ass the last few weeks, I’m taking care of your ass tonight.”

Mickey moaned at Ian’s words.  “Do it, baby. I’m yours.” Just as soon as those words left his mouth, Ian brought one hand down on Mickey’s ass cheek and slapped it hard, watching it pink up, rubbing it gently to soothe the sting.  “Goddammit, baby.  Do it again,” Mickey pleaded. And he did, four more times.  “Shit, that hurts so good, Ian.” Ian moved off the bed and walked across the room to get something, Mickey wasn’t sure what, and he didn’t really care at this point.  He was so fucking turned on he couldn’t think straight.  Each slap to his ass had been like a pulse of heat through his dick, making it hard with each blow and causing him to leak like a faucet. It was almost painful, his cock begging for release but also wanting to prolong the pleasure.

Mickey felt the bed dip as Ian climbed back on.  He heard a top on something click.  He could hear Ian squeezing from a bottle.  The cold cream hit his hot ass and Ian rubbed it in softly and smoothly.  That smell……aloe lotion.  It smelled so good and felt so good to Mickey’s stinging ass.  As Ian continued to lavish attention on his ass, Mickey heard another top click, the all too familiar sound of the lube being opened.  Ian’s left hand continued to rub at his ass while the slicked up fingers of his right hand slowly made their way down Mickey’s ass crack and back up again several times, rubbing right over his hole.  Mickey began to push back when his fingers would come close to it, silently pleading for him to enter.  “Patience, my power bottom, patience.”

“I’m about to lose what little patience I have left, Ian. Fuck me with those fingers.”

Finally, Ian relented and pressed his index finger in down to the knuckle, achingly slowly as not to hurt him. “That’s it, baby. You’re so tight, Mick.”

“It’s been too fucking long,” Mickey replied huskily. “Come on, give it to me.”

Another finger went in and then another, until three fingers were fucking him and stretching him good, getting him ready for Ian.  He wanted to make sure he was stretched well enough since it had been so long for them.  He didn’t want their first time in what seemed like forever to be painful.  He wanted to make it perfect for him.  “How’s that, babe?”

“I’m good, I’m good. Come on.” 

That was all Ian needed to hear.  He reached over Mickey and lifted the blindfold from his face.  He whispered darkly in Mickey’s ear, “I want you to see me destroy this ass.”

“Yes, baby.  Fucking do it,” Mickey panted.  “Fill me up with that big cock.” Goddammit Ian was so fucking hot.  Mickey needed him so bad he could taste it.    Ian straightened back up and slicked up his dick with lube. He put his hands back on Mickey’s ass cheeks spreading them far apart as he lined his cock up with Mickey’s hole.  He pulled his ass cheeks toward him as he pushed his cock in, slamming hard until his hips were pressed against those cheeks.  “Oh, God, Ian.  That’s it.  Right there, baby,” Mickey purred.

Ian began a punishing, frantic rhythm, his body taking control as a ferocious need overtook him, a need to feel all of his boyfriend, to turn him out until his insides were as marked up as his ass. He pounded in and out mercilessly, hitting Mickey’s prostate and causing the brunette to scream out each time he did. “Yes! Yes! Don’t stop!” As he drove into him, Mickey began pushing back with each thrust, them meeting in the middle in an explosion of sensation. “Harder, baby.  Give me that big cock.”

Ian began pumping even harder, over and over, sweat now glistening on his chest. He ran his hands up Mickey’s sweat slicked back and grabbed his shoulders.  He pulled his shoulders back roughly with each upward thrust into Mickey’s ass. “Jesus fucking Christ, you feel so good, baby,” Ian said, each word punched out with each thrust.  “You always take my cock so good.”

No matter what happened between them, what obstacles they faced, they would always have this.  They were so good together in so many ways, but this, this chemistry they had was undeniable.  They were still so hot for each other after all this time, their desire for each other never waning.  Their connection was intimate, passionate, and real. 

Ian removed his hands from Mickey’s shoulders and ran them down his sides until they rested on his hips.  All of a sudden he buried his cock deep inside him and stilled.  He began to pump short, fast jabs to Mickey’s prostate.  Mickey dropped his head and grunted each time Ian pistoned into him. Ian pulled Mickey up so that they were both upright and his back was against Ian’s chest.  Ian wrapped his arms around Mickey’s chest, holding him tightly against him, as Mickey brought his arm up and grabbed the back of Ian’s neck with his hand, rubbing rhythmically to match Ian’s thrusts. Both of their chests heaved as their moans grew louder and mixed together, reverberating throughout the room.

Ian took one arm off of Mickey’s chest and reached down to grab his leaking cock.  “Oh, shit.”

“You’re so hard, Mick.” Ian began pumping his hand up and down until Mickey started fucking into his hand.  Ian stilled his hand and let Mickey set the pace. “Come for me, baby.  I want you to come so fucking hard.” 

“Oh, fuck.  I’m gonna fucking come, Ian. “ Mickey pushed roughly a few  more times into Ian’s hand until he came so hard he fell over on the bed on his hands, his come shooting all over their comforter.  Ian, not breaking his rhythm, brought both his hands back to Mickey’s hips, his breath stuttering at the sensation of Mickey’s inner muscles clenching and massaging his cock.  “Oh, fucking hell, Mickey!”  Ian came, shooting hot spurts of come into his boyfriend’s ass, filling him up fully.  Ian collapsed bonelessly against Mickey’s back, causing him to fall to the bed, arms outstretched, chest still heaving.  They were both trying to slow their breathing but their adrenaline was still pumping vivaciously through their veins. Eventually, they were able to breathe normally.  Ian realized he was still lying on top of Mickey and went to move off of him.

“No, don’t move.  Stay there,” Mickey requested, his voice soft and low.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” Ian replied.

“Trust me, I’m feeling a lot of things right now, but hurt isn’t one of them.”

“We sure are good, aren’t we baby?”

“The best, babe. I love you, Ian.”

“I love you too, Mickey.” Ian softly kissed Mickey’s temple, the man below him already lightly snoring.

“Wow, I guess I wore you out, huh?” Ian teased, knowing Mickey was asleep and couldn’t hear him. If Ian was being honest, he was pretty fucking worn out himself. He watched Mickey sleep for a few more moments, put his lips close to his ear and whispered, “I love you Mickey Milkovich.  With all my heart.”

Ian laid his head on Mickey’s back carefully as not to wake him.  As soon as he did, he fell fast asleep, oblivious to the smile that had spread widely across Mickey’s face.

_______________________________________________________________________________

            Mickey was acting weird today and Ian didn’t know why.  He didn’t like it at all.  Ever since they had gotten home from the hospital, Mickey had been sweet and attentive, waiting on him hand and foot basically.  Ian hated to admit it but he loved the fuck out of it.  He loved having his boyfriend lavish all this attention on him. In fact, if there was a Boyfriend of the Year Award given out somewhere, Mickey would win it hands down, no contest.  He had been nothing short of amazing to Ian through this whole situation, even when he wasn’t the best patient in the world.

Which is why it was so weird that Mickey acted totally different today.  He had been nervous and fidgety this morning, wouldn’t kiss Ian when he attempted to, and even asked Ian to go to the pharmacy to pick up his own meds.  He went, figuring he had no room to complain considering how much Mickey had done for him over the last few weeks.  The least he could do was pick up his own meds.  But it just didn’t make sense.  Why was he acting so strange now after all this time? Was he finally fed up with him and his cranky bedside manner? Was he ready to go back to work to get away from him? What was his precious little world coming to?

Lip had told Mickey to take all the time off he needed, and his job would be waiting for him when he came back.  They were both thankful as fuck for that, but the money situation was getting a little tight.  They had saved up some money from their jobs, but that fund was quickly drying up.  Maybe Mickey was stressing about money.  That could very possibly be it since he was the worrier in the relationship.  Ian certainly didn’t want Mickey to worry and he felt guilty that he was the source of it.  If he hadn’t gotten injured, they wouldn’t be in this mess.  But then he had to tell himself that it was all Roger’s doing, not his. 

He had been seeing the same therapist that Sue was seeing which helped Ian a lot in dealing with the aftermath of that traumatic experience.  Mickey had even gone with him to those appointments, sitting quietly and holding his hand the whole time he poured out his feelings. Mickey really had been absolutely fucking perfect which is what made his behavior today that much more bizarre.  Ian planned on talking to Mickey as soon as he got home from the pharmacy.

He was considering how he was going to broach the subject with Mickey when he heard a small voice behind him. “Ian?”

Ian turned and looked down into Rosie’s dark brown eyes. “Rosie? Oh my god!”  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly to him.  “How are you?”

Rosie’s voice was muffled by Ian’s shirt since he still had her in his embrace.  “I’m good.  How are you, Ian?”

He released her and put his hands on her shoulders and squeezed affectionately.  “I’m doing great.  A lot better than I was a few weeks ago.” He looked her up and down.  “You look good, Rosie.”

She smiled brightly at him. “You do too, Ian.  I’m so happy to see you out and about.  I know we talked on the phone a couple times, but it’s so good to actually see you.” She looked down sheepishly as she said her next statement.  “I’m sorry I didn’t make it to the hospital to visit you.” 

Ian scoffed. “Don’t apologize for that.  I’m just glad you were okay.  I feel responsible for you getting hurt.  But that expensive ass therapy is helping me deal with that.”

Rosie laughed.  “I know what you mean.  I’ve been seeing a therapist too.  Have you talked to Sue?”

Ian nodded.  “Yeah, she came to the hospital to see me. She seems to be doing much better.”

“That’s good,” Rosie replied.  “I’ve been meaning to call, but I guess I just didn’t know what to say to her,” she admitted, embarrassed.

“I understand.  I’m sure she understands too.  I’ll be glad when we can all get back to work.”

Rosie nodded in agreement.  “Me too.  I’m about to go stir crazy. How’s Mickey?”

Ian couldn’t help his smile at the mention of his boyfriend’s name.  “He’s wonderful,” Ian replied dreamily. He decided not to mention Mickey’s little detour from perfection today.

“That’s great,” Rosie said, a genuine smile on her face.  Then she smirked.  “Nothing like a horrific tragedy to make you not sweat the small stuff, huh?”

Ian was about to agree with her when he heard a man clearing his throat behind her in line.  He turned back around to see that the pharmacy attendant was waiting on him to walk up.  “Gotta run, Rosie.  It was good seeing you!” He kissed her on the cheek and walked briskly up to the counter, picked up his meds, and left the store. 

______________________________________________________________________________

Ian came through the front door of their apartment about 20 minutes later, but he didn’t see Mickey anywhere.  “Mickey?”

All of a sudden, Mickey emerged from the bedroom, one hand in his jeans pocket, and the other thumbing at his lip nervously.  Oh shit. “Can you come in here for a sec?” Mickey asked, pointing his thumb back to the bedroom.

“Uh, yeah sure, Mick.”  He wanted to talk to him anyway and clear the air between them, find out what the hell was going on with him today.  He threw the bag of meds on the coffee table and followed Mickey into the bedroom. He began to speak as he walked through the doorway.  “Look, Mick, I just want to know what is going on with……..” 

Suddenly all the air left Ian’s body as he scanned their tiny bedroom which had been transformed into something out of a romantic movie, with candles burning brightly on every available surface, and soft music playing in the background.  “Will you sit down, Ian?” Mickey asked softly.

Ian sat hesitantly, still looking around, amazed at the scene before him.  “Mickey, I’m……” Ian stuttered.

“Before you say anything, let me get this out, okay?” Mickey was pacing back and forth, still thumbing at his lip while beads of sweat started forming on his forehead. He finally stopped pacing and stood right in front of Ian as he began to speak.  “Before I met you all those years ago, I didn’t think I was worthy of love.  I didn't know what love was. Fuck knows I never had any good role models in my life. No one had ever truly loved me.  Hell, I didn’t even love myself.  But then I met you, and all that shit changed.  You made me see that I was capable of love and to be loved.  You’ve shown me a love like I had never known before.  These years with you have been the best years of my life.  You are it for me, Ian.  I don’t want to be with anybody else.”  Mickey dropped down to one knee in front of Ian, who was now crying uncontrollably, his hands over his mouth in shock.  Mickey pulled a black velvet box with gold trim out of his pocket and began fidgeting with it as he spoke up again. “I got this the day you came out of your coma.  I stopped by a jewelry store on my way to the hospital.  I wanted to get it then because, God help me, if anything had happened to you in the hospital, and you didn’t come home with me,” Mickey’s voice betrayed him as tears pooled in his eyes, “I was going to wear it on my finger in your honor for the rest of my life.  I meant what I said, Ian.  You’re it for me. I want the whole world to know that you are mine and I am yours.  And that hospital will know for sure who the fuck I am next time.  But don’t let there be a next time, okay?” Ian laughed through his tears as Mickey opened the box and held it between his hands.  Mickey waited a moment for Ian’s laughter to subside. “Ian Gallagher, will you marry me?”

Ian was overcome with emotion, as happy tears streamed down his face. He couldn't believe, after all these years and everything they had been through together, they had made it here. Mickey wanted to marry him. It was his dream come true, a dream he honestly didn't think he would ever see come to fruition. He cleared his throat, making sure that his next word was clear and concise, so that there was absolutely no question what he said. He sighed dreamily as he looked down into those beautiful blue eyes, sparkling with tears. "Yes." Mickey tried to place the ring on Ian’s left ring finger, both of their hands shaking uncontrollably. When the ring was finally on, Ian looked at it on his finger. It was a simple platinum band.  It was just like Mickey.  Simple, yet beautiful.  Ian reached for Mickey and  they embraced, holding on to each other for dear life. “I love you, Mickey.”

Mickey released Ian and cupped his face with his hands and looked deep into his eyes.  “I love you too, Ian.” He brought their lips together in a passionate kiss.  He moved forward, slowly pushing Ian down on the bed and lying on top of him. They kissed languidly as all the love they had for each other poured out. Mickey broke the kiss as he sat up, grabbing the hem of Ian’s shirt and pulling it with him.  He threw it on the floor by the bed.  They stayed in that position, Ian sitting up and Mickey straddling his lap.  Mickey wrapped his arms around Ian’s shoulders as Ian wrapped his arms around Mickey’s waist.  He pulled Mickey’s shirt up and over his head and discarded it.

As they continued to kiss, Mickey grabbed Ian’s tongue with his lips and began sucking, causing a moan to escape the redhead’s lips.  Ian reached up with one hand and cupped the back of Mickey’s neck, guiding him even deeper into his mouth. After a few moments, Ian broke the kiss and started moving down Mickey’s neck, Mickey leaning his head back to give Ian better access.  He licked and sucked on one side of his neck then the other, leaving a trail of faint bruises that were beginning to form.  Ian began stroking Mickey’s back with both hands up and down softly and slowly, reveling in the feel of his warm skin against his hands.  His hands went further down until they were cupping his fiancé’s jean-clad ass.  “Oh, God, Ian.  That feels so good.”

“It will feel even better once we get these jeans off, baby.  I want to feel every inch of you.”

Mickey looked sincerely into those green eyes he loved so much.  “Lay back, baby.  I’ll take care of you.”  As Ian laid back on the pillows, Mickey stood and removed his jeans and boxers. Ian began rising up off the bed to do the same, but Mickey stopped him. “No, baby.  Let me.  I got you.”  Ian wasn’t going to argue with that.

Mickey climbed back on the bed, having already grabbed the lube from the nightstand. He crawled up Ian’s body and began kissing him again, hard.  He rubbed their dicks together as he flexed his hips, both of them moaning into the other’s mouth. Their tongues tangled together in a familiar dance as their hands explored each other’s bodies.  Mickey ran his hands down Ian’s chest, slowly making his way down to his abs, his belly, and then over his jeans until he reached his crotch, squeezing gently, feeling Ian’s hard bulge there.  A thrill ran up Mickey’s spine as Ian broke the kiss to lean his head back and moan. “Shit, Mickey.”

Mickey came up with his hands again to Ian’s chest, running them down achingly slowly until he reached the waistband of his jeans.  He made quick work of opening his jeans and tugging them down his legs, Ian gasping as the jeans made contact with his erection on the way down.  “You’re killing me, baby.”

“You ain’t seen nothing yet,” Mickey answered lustfully.  After he discarded the jeans, he came back to Ian’s waist.  His mouth closed over his balls, the thin material of his boxers still there. Ian squirmed as Mickey’s mouth worked on him, licking and sucking his balls. 

Ian placed his hand on Mickey’s head and ran his fingers through his hair.  “Goddammit take them off, take them off!” Mickey smirked but obliged and threw the boxers across the room.  He came back down but when he did, he swallowed Ian down so fast, he yelped in surprise. “Fuck!” Mickey hollowed his cheeks and sucked with all his might, hard but slow.  He wanted Ian to feel treasured and loved tonight, because he truly was.  He wanted to take care of his future husband and show him with his body how much he loved him.  His lips stretched around Ian’s thick cock as he continued to bob up and down, base to tip then back down again, over and over. His hands roamed back up to Ian’s chest as he sucked, causing moans to escape his mouth as he watched his dick disappear into Mickey’s mouth.  “Damn, I love watching you, baby.  You suck my cock so good.”

Ian felt a familiar tightening in his balls and was about to tell Mickey to stop, but he instinctively popped off his cock, like he knew what Ian was thinking.  Why was he not surprised? They knew each other inside and out, as much as any two people could.  They didn’t have to tell the other one what they wanted.  They just already knew without words.  It was amazing to have that kind of connection with someone.  And now they were getting married.  Wow, Ian couldn’t believe they had made it here after all these years.  He couldn’t wait to spend the rest of his life with the man above him, who was now looking down into his eyes, his hands on either side of his head. “Your turn now, baby,” Ian purred as he ran his hands through the brunette’s hair. 

Mickey kissed him hard and fast then came back up to look at him again.  “I’m not gonna say no to that.” They switched places, Mickey lying down on the pillow as Ian moved down his chest, trailing soft kisses down his sternum as he descended.  He heard Mickey hum with pleasure and smiled against his skin.  As he reached his hard, swollen cock, he kissed the tip, then traveled down his length, running his wide, flat tongue down to the base.   He placed his hand at the base, pumping a few times.  He placed his mouth on the tip, his hand right below it.  His hand and his mouth both went down and then back up for a few strokes.  Ian stopped and licked Mickey’s slit and lapped up the precome that was leaking there.  He tasted so fucking good.  “Goddamn, Gallagher.”

Ian stopped abruptly and looked up at Mickey.  “Uh uh, it’s Milkovich, now thank you very much.” Ian smiled with pride at his fiancé.

Mickey huffed.  “That’s great, baby and we can talk about that all you want later, but right now you need to get back to sucking that fucking cock.”  Ian laughed lightly and went back to work as he was told. Ian placed his hands on Mickey’s thighs, raised up on his knees so his head was directly above his cock and began sucking hard and fast, using his hands on Mickey’s thighs as leverage to pull his cock in and out of his mouth.  Mickey began cursing and yelling unintelligibly.  He was a fucking mess and Ian loved that he did that to him.  “Fuck, Ian.  Shit! Shit! Shit!” His words just spurred Ian on, causing him to suck even harder and faster.  “I need you to fuck me, baby.  I need you so bad.”

Ian stopped his fervent pace and sat up, grabbing the lube to prepare Mickey for him.  But Mickey stopped him.  “I’m good, baby.  I am ready for you.” Mickey raised his eyebrows at Ian and he nodded his understanding.

“My baby got prepared for tonight, didn’t he?” Ian teased. 

“Hell, yeah I did.  I knew I was getting me some ass tonight after that.” Mickey pointed to the ring on Ian’s finger.

“My Mickey, such a romantic.”  Mickey giggled as they hugged, kissing for a few moments, savoring the moment.  Ian finally pulled away, and whispered in Mickey’s ear. “Turn over, baby.” Mickey complied enthusiastically as Ian grabbed the lube and slicked his cock up. “Lie flat on your stomach. Put your hands on either side of the pillow.” Again, Mickey did what Ian asked. This was his night and Mickey was going to go with whatever his man wanted.

Ian lined his cock up with Mickey and slowly inched his way in, both of them grunting in pleasure.  “Fill me up so good, baby.” Ian continued pushing in until he was completely all the way in.  He stayed there, just relishing the feel of Mickey’s warmth surrounding his cock.  Mickey reached around and grabbed his hip.  “Move, baby.  I need to feel you.”

Ian leaned down, causing his dick to hit Mickey’s prostate and the brunette gasped at the contact. Ian placed his hands on top of Mickey’s that were still on either side of the pillow, and laced their fingers together. He pulled himself back up and out of Mickey slightly and then slammed back down into him hard.  He established a steady rhythm, hitting Mickey’s prostate each time his cock pumped into him.  They were back to chest, flush against each other as Ian used his arms that were draped over Mickey’s to help himself pound even harder.  Mickey could feel Ian’s ring rub against his hand and it was the best feeling in the world.  Beside the huge cock pistoning into him over and over.  “Yes, Ian.  Right there! Give it to me!”  The friction from the bed sheets rubbing on his cock felt incredible along with the sensation Ian was causing in his ass.  The feeling was so intense.  It felt so fucking good, Mickey could hardly stand it.  “Give me that big cock, baby.”

The combined sweat on their bodies caused Ian to slip around a little on Mickey’s back, but it just spurred Ian on to pump even harder to maintain his rhythm. The continued friction on Mickey’s dick became too much for him.  “I’m gonna fucking come, Ian.  Goddammit!” Two more pumps into his ass from Ian and Mickey was gone, coming hard on his stomach, soiling the sheets with his seed but not giving any fucks.  He laid there, spent and completely sated.

Ian had other ideas.  “I’m not through with you yet, baby.  Come on, move with me.” Mickey quickly got back in the game.  They moved together fluidly as one and Ian pummeled Mickey’s ass a few more times until he came loudly, screaming Mickey’s name, filling his ass up with his come. He rolled over onto his back, his chest heaving and his breathing labored.

Mickey laid closely beside him, his back to Ian’s side.  Ian wrapped his arm around Mickey’s neck affectionately and rubbed his chest in light strokes, feeling his heartbeat slow as they were both finally able to calm their breathing. There was a comfortable silence in the air until Mickey finally spoke. “Damn, I should propose to you more often.”

They both laughed as Mickey turned to face Ian.  They had a lot to talk about.  Details about the wedding, about their future.  But all of that could wait until tomorrow.  Tonight it was just them.  Ian placed his ring clad hand on Mickey’s chest to feel his heartbeat as it slowed even more.  Mickey placed one hand under his pillow and the other softly on top of Ian’s.  They stared into each other’s eyes for a while, just looking.  No words needed to be said.  Ian watched as Mickey finally succumbed to sleep, his eyelids finally closing.  Ian’s followed after his, and the last thing he remembered seeing was the platinum band that was now a permanent fixture on his hand.

_________________________________________________________________________________

“I still can’t fucking believe it,” Fiona beamed proudly up at Ian.  “My little brother is getting married.” Fiona fidgeted with the bow tie of Ian’s black tuxedo, looking him up and down, before finally running her newly manicured hands down the lapels of Ian’s coat, making him more nervous than he already was.

“Yeah, I am Fi,” Ian said nervously, straightening the same bow tie again.

Fiona had finally come to accept Mickey and their relationship.  After the trauma Ian went through and the way Mickey was there for him and took care of him unfailingly, she couldn’t deny Mickey’s love for him.   She finally had begun to see what Ian had loved about him all these years and what the rest of the family already knew.  Mickey was a selfless and kind partner to Ian and he made him the happies he had ever been.

Her eyes glistened with tears as she chided her little brother lightly.   “Would you stop fidgeting? You look more nervous than a cat covering up shit.  Look, It’s almost time to get started and a very handsome man out there is waiting on you to become his husband.”

Ian’s brows shot up at the word, “husband,” and his palms started to sweat.  He was excited to finally be here, getting married to the love of his life, but fuck if he wasn’t scared as all hell.  They had been through so much to get to this point, and Ian couldn’t believe that the day was finally here. 

“Alright, little brother, you ready?”

“Ready as I’ll ever be.”

With one final face-splitting smile before she turned to go, Fiona patted Ian on the shoulder, and filed into the lobby area of the courthouse to join the rest of the Gallagher clan.  Ian shuffled his feet and tried to still his shaking hands.  All the obstacles, all the memories, all the good times, bad times, and everything in between had lead them to this moment.  He couldn’t wait to be Mickey’s husband and spend the rest of their lives together.

 Ian wondered idly how Mickey was doing.  They had decided to honor one wedding tradition and not see each other before the wedding, Mickey spending the night with Iggy at his apartment while Ian stayed at their place.  It was hell on earth for Ian.  He had thought it would be a good idea at first, but sleeping in their bed without Mickey had proven to be impossible.  He hoped he didn’t pass out from exhaustion before they were able to celebrate their wedding night. He hadn’t talked or even texted with Mickey since last night and it was driving him crazy.  He had missed him so fucking much.  He knew it was pitiful to feel that way considering it was only one night.  But Ian couldn’t help it.  He loved that man so much that being without him even for one night was excruciating. Was Mickey as nervous as he was? Was he excited?  He wished he knew. 

_______________________________________________________________________________

            Across the lobby of the courthouse, Mickey was sequestered in a little room off to the side, waiting impatiently for the ceremony to start.  “Fuck!” Mickey exclaimed, pacing back and forth, feeling for the cigarette that was not in his hand. Sweat was forming on his brow and his hands were shaking involuntarily.  He was wiping the sweat from his brow when a little hand lightly pulled on his pants leg.

“Dad, you said ‘fuck.’  Yev looked up at his dad, furrowing his brows as he scolded him.

“Sorry, buddy.  But you can’t say it either, alright?”

“Ok, dad,” Yev nodded.  “I can’t wait to be the ring bearer.  I’m gonna be the best ring bearer there ever was!”

Mickey looked down at his handsome little man in his black tuxedo as he fidgeted with the lace on the pillow that held the wedding bands.  “I know you are, son.  I know you are.” He ruffled his son’s brown hair as he spoke.  Both Milkovich men looked up when the door suddenly opened.

Mickey was dumbfounded.  After a few moments, he finally found his voice to speak.  “Mandy?”

“Aunt Mandy!” Yev exclaimed as he ran to her and hugged her tightly.  Of course Yev would remember her since she had helped raise him for the first few years of his life when Mickey wasn’t able.  But then Mandy had moved to New York and never looked back.  Mickey heard through the grapevine that she got an office job and even got a nice apartment outside the city.  Part of Mickey felt betrayed since he felt like if you were born in the South Side, you died in the South Side.  Even though Ian and Mickey had moved to a neighborhood next to the South Side, they were still close enough that he felt they were still honoring their roots. 

But the other part of Mickey understood her desire to get out.  After their dad got locked up, she no doubt felt the same freedom that Mickey and his brothers had, finally free of that nasty tyrant and his bigoted ways. He just hated that she felt she had to travel several hundred miles away to enjoy that freedom. Even though they weren’t that close and didn’t talk much, she was still his sister and he had missed her.

“Hey baby, I missed you!” Mandy said as she kissed Yev on the cheek. 

“What are you doing here?” Mickey asked, wide eyed in disbelief.

Mandy stood from her crouched position as she broke away from Yev’s embrace.  “You don’t think I was gonna miss my asshole brother getting hitched, do you?” She smiled affectionately at him.

“How……who……what?”  Mickey stuttered.

“I know there’s a question in there somewhere, Mick,” Mandy teased.  She finally decided to put him out of his misery.  “Thank your fiancé.  He called us and told us.”

“Us?”

“Yes, shithead.  Your brothers are here too.  Out in the lobby.” Mandy pointed with her thumb.

“That damn redhead,” Mickey mumbled and shook his head as a wide smile spread across his face.

“He can be pretty convincing when he wants something.”

Mickey scoffed.  “Yeah, tell me something I don’t fucking know.”

“Dad!” Yev interrupted.

“Shit……sorry, buddy.” Mandy looked at them in confusion until Mickey clarified. “I can’t say the ‘F’ word.”

“But all the other bad words are ok, I guess, huh?”

Mickey chuckled.   “Yeah, yeah, I guess so.”

“Well, I’m gonna head out there.” Mandy stepped closer to Mickey and they hugged each other tightly. “I’m so happy for you, brother.” Her voice was muffled by his tuxedo jacket.  He released her as he spoke.

“Thank you, Mandy.  And thank you for coming.  You just don’t know……..”  He couldn’t finish his sentence.  He just bumped his nose with his knuckle and fought back his tears.

“I know, Mick.  I know.” She too was fighting back her own tears.  She turned to Yev. “Bye, little man.” She waved and blew him a kiss before she walked out of the room, closing the door quietly behind her.

___________________________________________________________________________________

            “I, Ian Gallagher, take you, Mickey Milkovich, to be my wedded husband.  I promise to strive always to consider your needs in addition to my own, to be a source of strength for you, to accept your strength for myself, to share freely my thoughts and feelings, to listen when you share yours with me.  I make these solemn promises, to keep in times of plenty and in want, in joy and in sorrow, in sickness, and in health, from this day forward.”

            Ian’s tears fell down his cheeks as he stared into sparkling blue eyes that shed their own tears as well.  A man that for so many years didn’t share his feelings, didn’t talk about emotions, was standing here in front of all of their family and friends and everybody in the damn Chicago City Hall, crying freely and openly. Ian was amazed at the man who stood before him and held his hands in his own. Ian still couldn’t believe that he was marrying the love of his life.  He felt like it was a dream that he never wanted to wake from. Nothing had ever felt more perfect than this moment. They squeezed each other’s hands as Mickey began his turn with the vows. 

            “I, Mickey Milkovich, take you, Ian Gallagher, to be my wedded husband.  I promise to strive always to consider your needs in addition to my own, to be a source of strength for you, to accept your strength for myself, to share freely my thoughts and feelings, to listen when you share yours with me.  I make these solemn promises, to keep in times of plenty and in want, in joy and in sorrow, in sickness, and in health, from this day forward.”

            They smiled lovingly at each other as the officiant continued.

            “Ian, will you take Mickey to be your husband, to live together in matrimony? Will you love him as a person, respect him as an equal, sharing joy as well as sorrow, triumph as well as defeat? And keep him beside you as long as you both shall live?”

            “I will,” Ian said softly, emotion evident in his voice.

            “Mickey, will you take Ian to be your husband, to live together in matrimony? Will you love him as a person, respect him as an equal, sharing joy as well as sorrow, triumph as well as defeat? And keep him beside you as long as you both shall live?”

            “Fuck, yes I will!”  Ian and the rest of the room erupted in tearful laughter.

            “Dad!”  Yev admonished, as he stood beside Mickey, proudly holding the ring pillow.

            “It’s ok, buddy.  You can say it when you’re really happy.” 

As the laughter subsided, the officiant asked, “May we have the rings please?”

Yev, recognizing his cue, walked over ever so carefully with the pillow to stand between Ian and his dad.  Mickey picked up Ian’s band and gently placed it on his left ring finger.  Ian did the same.  Yev walked back and resumed his position beside his dad.

The officiant continued. “By the power vested in me by the state of Illinois, I now pronounce you married. I present to you, Mickey and Ian Milkovich.  You may kiss.”

            Ian and Mickey’s lips pressed together in a sweet, gentle kiss as clapping and cheering erupted around them from all of their friends and family, and even some spectators who were just there to handle personal business. They hugged tightly as their tears fell on each other’s tuxedo jacket, neither one of them giving a shit.  They were married.  They were the Milkoviches. Ian belonged to Mickey and Mickey belonged to Ian. This was the happiest day of their lives.  They knew there was nothing they couldn’t face, nothing they couldn’t endure, as long as they had each other.  They turned toward the crowd, laced their fingers together, and took one last loving look at each other before they walked together toward their families, their friends, and their future.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well I hope you enjoyed this story! Thank you all so much for reading! Kudos and comments are greatly appreciated!


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